


The Woes of Hell's Private Eye

by TheVattGhern



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Detective Noir, Drama, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Film Noir, Graphic Violence, Mystery, No Smut, Torture, slow-burn romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:13:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 38,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26716555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheVattGhern/pseuds/TheVattGhern
Summary: When Alastor acts out of character, Charlie Magne begins to feel that something is not quite right. She contacts Amelia Langdon; Hell's finest private eye. After accepting the case, Amelia discovers that this was not just another case. As she digs to uncover the truth, Amelia starts to question her own morals and whether or not this will be the case that swallows her whole.
Relationships: Amelia/Alastor, Charlie Magne/Vaggie
Comments: 8
Kudos: 23





	1. White Envelope.

To those that do not reside in Hell, they would never be able to tell apart day and night. The truth was that Hell only existed in the realm of night. One could find a black orb donning a pentagram snuggled comfortably among the grey clouds, taking the role of an eternal moon. On this particular night, one called Charlotte Magne stared at it. Her expression forlorn.

She rested her elbows on the balcony’s edge and was lost in thought. Much ran through her mind and it was no wonder she was sad. The hotel that she created and invested a great magnitude of time into had no business. What kind of hotel had no clients, with almost three weeks of having its doors open?

‘Charlie?’

The interruption was welcome for it came from Vaggie. Nonetheless, the demon princess only hummed in response. The grey-skinned demon joined her girlfriend’s side on the balcony. ‘You’ve been here for over an hour. Everything okay?’ Her voice was tender and comforting. Charlie, for that was her nickname, smiled. ‘Yeah.’

‘Come on, what’s going on? You know I’m here for you.’ Vaggie placed her hand on Charlie’s shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. Charlie laughed nervously. ‘Can never fool you, can I?’

With the ease in tension, Charlie revealed her worries to her best friend and lover. She explained how the stagnant state of the hotel worried her, how Alastor’s involvement might have scared away any potential clients, and also not to mention how Angel Dust’s public display of entering a turf war may have had a part in it as well.

‘Hell never had something like this, y’know? A rehab hotel for demons. I think you need to give it time and see what happens,’ Vaggie said. Charlie nodded and straightened up; determination set in her shoulders. Though, the sadness never left her eyes. ‘Thanks, Vaggie.’ She squeezed her girlfriend’s hands. ‘Let’s go back in, don’t want Angel burning the place down now.’

Vaggie smiled at Charlie’s joke and the pair walked back into the hotel. It must be noted that the arachnid demon had not set fire to the establishment in the absence of the two demonesses.

*

It wasn’t an uncommon sight to find Charlie walking floor to floor and taking her time to ensure that everything in the hotel was functional and in place. It was an act she did every day for she had the luxury of time and not to mention her high hopes for the hotel. She would frequently encounter Niffty, a cheery demoness who had a higher-than-normal enthusiasm for cleaning. Niffty would be more than happy to see Charlie and would speak in her usual manner; quickly and excitedly. The demon princess no longer had issues understanding Niffty and would, in a way, enjoy their brief conversations.

On the highest level, Charlie passed the private quarters of the infamous Radio Demon. She recalled how he simply claimed the room by waltzing in and slamming the door shut behind him. Room number 50 had more meaning in the Hazbin hotel than ever before. Soon enough, Charlie finished her rounds and went down to the front desk which was managed by none other than Vaggie.

‘Everything is as it should be.’ Charlie told Vaggie, who currently sat slumped behind the front desk.

Vaggie frowned when the front doors burst open. Charlie turned to see Angel walking in. ‘Daddy’s home!’ he proclaimed. His flirtatious smile boasted bright white teeth save for a single tooth of gold.

‘Where in the nine circles have you been?’ Vaggie sprung from her seat and pointed an accusing claw at him. Nonplussed as he was, one set of arms adjusted his hair and the other set rested on his hips. From the way he looked at himself in the mirror hung in the lobby, it was obvious Angel lacked no confidence.

‘Come on, sweetheart.’ He glanced over his shoulder at her. ‘Screamin’ like that is just gonna scare everyone away.’

Vaggie gripped the dark mahogany desk so tightly that her claws sunk into the wood’s grain. Charlie threw an assuring look over to Vaggie before speaking. ‘You’re supposed to be under rehabilitation. The whole point is to keep you clean,’ she scolded. Angel simply waved one of his hands at her and began walking away.

‘Yeah, yeah, whateva’ ya say doll.’ His direction was towards the bar, where grumpy Husk would soon be “entertained” by the busty spider.

Back in the lobby, Charlie sighed. Due to her luscious blonde hair, rosy cheeks and lips that almost always fell into a smile, it was hard for her to intimidate others. It was her optimistic nature that set her apart from other citizens but it was also what made her an easy target. If her father were not Lucifer, circumstances would have been completely different.

‘Oh great, what do you want?’ Vaggie spat. The sound of static was barely audible but all knew what it meant. Charlie turned around and saw Alastor smiling down at Vaggie, who had approached him from her desk. When Charlie noticed the silver object in Vaggie’s hand, she quickly rushed over to them.

‘Goodness gracious what a bark! It appears we’ve assigned you to the wrong job.’ Alastor rubbed his chin in consideration.

Without sparing another second, Charlie grabbed Vaggie’s spear. ‘Woah, no need for that.’ She giggled nervously and slowly pried away the lethal weapon. She tucked the spear away, faced Alastor and forced a big smile. ‘H-hey there, Al,’ she greeted.

One would deem it impossible for Alastor’s smile to widen further but it did. ‘I came down here to see what all the commotion was, dear Charlie!’ He bent down to her eye-level. ‘But I see you handled yourself well enough.’ Alastor turned his head towards Vaggie. ‘I hate to say that I am disappointed in you but I must. Not only do you frown but now I learn you raise your voice at poor, wayward souls?’ He straightened up and put a hand to his chest. ‘I see it now, yes!’ He spun on his heel and motioned to the archaic space. ‘It is the unwelcoming environment, the harsh treatment-’

‘Yeah pin it all on me, asshole. Nothing to do with you at all,’ Vaggie said sarcastically.

‘How noble of you to admit it so! Ah but it is beside the point. Hmm, I wonder if maybe-’

‘Nope, we are changing nothing. It won’t happen again so forget about it,’ Charlie said firmly. Alastor’s head turned an approximate 180 degrees to face the princess. ‘Well, something has to! You’ve noticed the lack of entertainment?’

Charlie swallowed. ‘Umm, don’t you mean “clients”?’

He guffawed heartily. ‘Of course! Say, we can discuss this further in your-’

Of all the times Alastor was interrupted, this time it was from a levitating white envelope that nudged him. His head snapped forwards and looked at the small, thin object that persistently prodded at his arm. He plucked it out of the air and his eyes scanned the writing on the front of the envelope. Alastor’s head cocked to side.

‘Do you uh- wanna open it or something?’ Charlie asked.

‘Ha! If you insist.’ Using his claw, he tore the top open cleanly and removed a folded paper. After unfolding the paper, he read the content in silence and went through the letter quickly. Alastor smiled and tucked the letter back neatly into the envelope, and the envelope into his coat. ‘This has been lovely but something requires my attention,’ he said nonchalantly.

Charlie and Vaggie exchanged looks. ‘Is it serious?’ Charlie asked solemnly.

Alastor shook his head, his smile firmly in place. ‘Of course not, my dear. How sweet of you to care.’ He pinched Charlie’s cheek lovingly, adding to Vaggie’s anger. He pulled away and made way to the hotel’s front doors. ‘Don’t let the business crash and burn while I’m gone!’ The doors slammed shut after him. A comfortable silence fell in Alastor’s absence and the demonesses appeared to relax. The peace lasted for a few seconds before Angel’s cheerful laugh resonated throughout the hotel.

Charlie smiled. ‘Gee, what was that about?’

‘Dunno but Angel sure is happy.’

The blonde rubbed her arm nervously. ‘I meant Alastor. I really got weird vibes from him.’

Vaggie rubbed her face. ‘Charlie, we talked about this. You can’t try to help everyone in hell. Plus, he is all about “weird vibes” so don’t even think about it.’

Charlie shrugged. ‘I know, I know.’ She chuckled sheepishly. ‘Don’t think about it. Right. Gotcha.’ She inhaled sharply and puffed up her chest. ‘Let’s go see what Angel’s up to.’

‘No good probably.’

The absence of Alastor was soon forgotten as a lighter tone possessed the hotel. At the bar, the group of demons chatted and joked with one another. One benefit that came with the absence of clients is that they could all meet and speak without a care in the world. A distraction from a failing business, as one would put it.

As the final hours rolled in, Alastor still had not returned to the hotel and no word was heard from him. There was no news to be found on television, either. Such would be the case for the next two nights.

*

‘If he’s dead we’ll know so shut up and drink ya whiskey.’

The wise words of Angel did little to calm the demon princess. ‘Al never just disappears.’ Charlie gasped suddenly. ‘Maybe he was kidnapped!’

Angel laughed. ‘Ya shoulda become a comedian, toots. Really missed your mark on that one.’ He took her unattended whiskey and took a sip from the crystal.

‘Let’s be real here. He either abandoned the business or is planning to level this place,’ Vaggie said bitterly. Charlie sunk deep into the bar room’s sofa and crossed her arms.

‘He has better not fucking left me here,’ Husk growled.

‘I love it when ya talk dirty.’ Angel purred pleasantly.

Charlie drowned out the quarrelling between the two demons. The grandfather clock showed the time to be close to eight. Would it be another day without Alastor’s return?

‘Do you really think he is going to destroy the hotel?’

Vaggie, who was sprawled on the opposite sofa, groaned softly. ‘The business, yeah. The whole building, probably not. He doesn’t want to piss off Lucifer.’

‘I think Al likes this place,’ Charlie countered.

‘You thought demons would be all chipper for a chance to be redeemed. Look where that got us.’

Charlie’s head snapped up like she was struck. Vaggie’s eyes widened as she realised what she said. ‘Charlie, I didn’t mean-’

‘Don’t say anything.’ The princess’ eyes watered but she refused a single tear to form. ‘I’m going for a walk.’ She stood up from the luxurious leather sofa. Charlie flashed a glare at Vaggie the moment she looked like she would try to stop her. It did the trick and off on her way Charlie did go.

Like a stray she wandered through the hotel. The walls were adorned with many pictures of or relating to the Magne family. It was Charlie’s idea, of course. The images depicted happy times and were meant to incite emotions associated with a warm home and not a cold and formal establishment. She stopped to look at the Magne family portrait. It was the largest picture on the wall of the lobby. Her parents behind her and she in-between and to the front of them. She looked at Lucifer, the forever smiling and ever powerful. Her father was constantly disappointed in her and she was made well-aware of the fact. She could almost hear her mother’s voice, “Father wants what is best for you, love.”

Mother. She looked at Lilith, the demoness who fell for an archangel. It was scandalous at the time but Lilith had no care in the world, or at least that is what she claimed. Her voluptuous figure and glowing skin immortalised on the canvas, in the image she stood proudly with her husband and the little slip of a daughter. Charlie knew she was nothing like her parents. She took her phone in her hands and looked at the calls her mother missed from her. It left Charlie yearning for her mother’s love, a love that she thought she had. It was apparent that none believed in her, not even Vaggie.

‘Aha! What is this? Sniffling nose and wet eyes, oh this will not do!’

Charlie turned around in a flash and gasped. There before her appearing just as the day he left; Alastor. ‘Al!’ she squeaked. He had spoken before she could register the static on her skin.

Alastor appeared next to Charlie and put his arm around her. ‘Tell me dear, what ails you so?’

She pulled away and looked up at him. ‘What the- where were you? You just disappeared!’

His red eyes and sharp-toothed grin widened simultaneously. ‘I was gone for only a moment, my dear. Is that why you’re upset?’

The lack of malice in his voice was what made Charlie pause. ‘N-no. Just some love stuff, don’t bother.’

‘If that is the case then, I am starving! Should I prepare something for your subjects?’ He said in his usual enthusiastic manner.

‘Nah, we’re good.’ She wrung her hands and broke eye contact. ‘Al, you were gone for four days.’

He laughed merrily. ‘Four days!’ Alastor picked up his microphone which opened its eye at his sudden attention. ‘Am I hearing this right?’

The microphone responded, ‘We’re hearing the same thing as you are, good man!’

‘My! Time does fly when you’re having fun. Am I right, Charlie?’ Again, he tightly wrapped his arm around her and laughed theatrically.

‘Umm, Al?’ Her voice trembled. When his ruby eyes landed on her, he raised a curious brow. ‘Y-you’re bleeding. From your uh-’ she gestured to his forehead. He swiped at his forehead with his free hand. His claws came back stained with angry red blood. He cocked his head to side and, to Charlie’s surprise, his smile wavered.

‘Ha! Must have been a door frame, imagine that!’ He laughed again. The princess noticed a strange silence loom over them. The static had dropped.

‘Where were you?’

His soft ears perked up. ‘Somewhere in hell, that’s for sure,’ he teased. Something in Alastor’s tone commanded her to cease prying. As he led her to the kitchen, Charlie noticed the static finally return. The Radio Demon prattled on as usual but the demoness’ curiosity and worry only increased.

*

Try as she might, Charlie could not shake the feeling of danger each time she thought of Alastor. Any common demon would agree and wonder where her mind had been all the while. However, Charlie would argue, Alastor’s behaviour was abnormal. She did not trust sharing her feelings with Vaggie. The moth demon had a habit of dismissing her concerns, especially when it came to Alastor.

Her pouting did not go unnoticed by Angel who plopped himself next to her on the leather sofa with a bored groan. ‘Alright, talk.’

Charlie ignored him.

‘Come on, toots. Why the long face?’

She crossed her arms defensively. ‘You’re just gonna laugh at me. Besides-’ She looked at him, ‘do you actually care?’

‘Eh, what can I say? The program is workin’ out for me.’ He crossed his shapely legs. ‘Enough foreplay, tell Angel where it hurts.’

Charlie’s eyes glanced about the lounge. She sat up and looked behind her; nothing. Angel looked on with a raised brow. ‘Look.’ She edged closer to him and lowered her voice. ‘Alastor was gone for four days and we get nothing.’

‘That was two days ago, babe. You still thinkin’ about it?’

‘You don’t get it,’ she hissed. Her blonde hair bounced about with her frantic hand movements. ‘He is sketchy as fuck but he loves to brag. He gets some letter, disappears and says nothing about it?’

Angel squinted. ‘Yeah, I get ya. He went on a killing spree and made sure everyone knew. Well, almost everyone,’ he snickered. His lower set of arms rested on the sofa and the other crossed under his breasts. ‘If Al doesn’t wanna tell ya what happened, you’ll never know.’

‘What if Vaggie is right? Maybe this was all some voodoo shit to make me go crazy.’

Angel tapped his chin in thought while Charlie rambled on. ‘Shut up for a second, I’m thinking.’

‘What?’ She asked innocently.

‘You better keep what I say to yourself, missy.’ When Charlie nodded, he continued, ‘This broad does detective work for the big wigs ‘round these parts. I think she can help ya too.’

‘A detective? In hell?’ She sounded sceptical.

‘I’ll do ya one better. We can go see her now, like right now.’

‘I dunno, Angel. I feel like I’ll be betraying Al.’

Angel stood up and brushed himself off. ‘Well he is lying to ya so I think you have reason enough. Come on snookums, I’m doin’ ya a solid.’

While Charlie contemplated her decision, Angel took this time to style his hair. He heard his name called from a distance. It was Charlie by the lounge’s exit, looking impatient as ever.

‘Lead the way.’

*

The limousine stopped in front of a high-end condominium. The walls of the complex appeared to be made of mirrors, reflecting the scenery around it. Occasionally it would pulse and a ray of colours would spread over the condominium like a wave. Charlie looked around and found that many of the buildings were tastefully made and designed. She signalled the driver to wait for her and Angel.

‘How do you know where she is?’ Charlie asked as Angel stepped out of the limousine.

‘I was the middle-man. Valentino tells me somethin’ and I go tell her. She tells me somethin’ and I go to him. Real simple.’ He slammed the door shut behind him. ‘She’s in that trippy condo.’

Together the two went to the building’s supposed front as there was a directory embedded in the wall and no front door. Charlie squinted at the list of names and numbers with their respective buzzers. ‘What did you say her name was?’

‘Nah, she just goes by a numba’.’ He searched then pressed the buzzer assigned to “41”. When no reply came, Angel scowled and pressed the buzzer again with his black claw. Finally, the speaker cracked as the other side answered.

‘State your business,’ a deep masculine voice said.

‘Hey Don,’ Angel purred. He glanced at Charlie who stared at him with wide eyes. He winked at her and earned a blush. ‘Is Amelia in? I got a client who wants to see her.’

A disappointed sigh was heard from the speaker. ‘Come in.’

A section of the mirror-wall dematerialised to expose an archaic oak door. On it was the number 41. Angel opened the door and motioned Charlie to follow. Once through, Charlie noticed she was in a hallway and before her again was the same door. She turned around to see her entry point gone and a solid wall in the place of it.

‘A portal?’ She breathed.

‘Yeah, pretty sweet if ya ask me.’

Once again, the pair went through door 41. Charlie noticed the earthy smell of wood first and then only the shades of brown that came from the hardwood floors, desk, and another door. At said desk was a bull that sat hunched over his papers. On the desk was a rotary phone which Charlie believed connected to the buzzer outside.

‘Heya there, Don. Love the nose ring.’ Angel tapped on the golden ring that went through the bull’s nasal septum. Don pulled away and sneered at the whorish cross-dresser. ‘Listen, I’d love to chat but Lucy’s pride and joy-’ His many arms pointed at the pepperoni-cheeked lady. ‘-needs to see ya boss. Pronto.’

The bull glared at him and its eyes burned hot with anger. The fact that he did not immediately lunge at Angel indicated that he experienced such treatment before.

‘What Angel means-’ Charlie quickly stepped in beside him. ‘-is that I require the services of miss Amelia and would like you to let her know I’m here,’ she said in the calmest and sweetest tone she could muster.

‘Now those are manners, if I could say so myself.’ The new voice grabbed the attention of the newcomers. The creature at the office door was humanoid in appearance and what set her apart from being completely human were the small rounded white ears that poked through the top of her head, fingers that stretched into black claws and a nose with a blackened tip. Her pale skin contrasted the knee length black A-line dress she donned. ‘I hope you were taking notes, Anthony.’

‘Did ya just came back from Hitler’s funeral?’ Angel looked her up and down.

‘How I wish that were the case.’ She stepped to side and gestured to the two chairs inside. ‘Please, come in.’

*

The fourth wall of the office could be mistaken for a window when, in truth, it allowed light to move only in one way. On the outside, it was a mirror. On the inside, it was a window. The view indicated that the office was located among the highest floors of the condominium. A true nightmare for those with acrophobia.

‘Would you care for some tea?’ Amelia asked. Charlie looked away from the window and smiled.

‘Yeah, thanks.’

‘How about you?’ she addressed Angel.

‘You brits and your tea,’ he scoffed. Charlie shot him an angry glare and he added, ‘but yeah, fine.’

Amelia continued arranging her desk as tea cups and saucers floated through the air and set themselves. A teapot soon followed and poured fresh tea into each cup before floating away like a lazy bumblebee. When the clutter was handled, Amelia took a seat in the executive chair and rested her elbows on the dark oak.

‘To business?’ She suggested.

Charlie fidgeted in her seat. ‘I was hoping you could… gather info on my uh- “associate”?’

Amelia’s painted red lips morphed into a soft smile. ‘This associate, do they have a name?’

‘Alastor,’ Angel interjected lazily.

Amelia’s brows raised slightly. ‘Am I correct to assume that you are referring to the High Demon?’

‘Yeah, that’s the one.’ Charlie chuckled and rubbed the back of her neck. ‘We’ve been working together on this project, not sure if you’ve heard of it. It’s like a hotel but for sinners-’

‘Pardon my interruption. I am well-aware of the project you speak of and who you are.’ Amelia leaned back into the chair. ‘Investigating a High Demon is an extremely delicate process and not to mention dangerous. It all comes down to the information you seek.’

Amelia’s silence served as a cue for Charlie to speak, and so she did. ‘About a week ago, he got a letter and then disappeared for four days. He won’t tell me anything about it and it’s so unlike him.’

‘Him disappearing is uncommon?’

‘I mean, no. But like we will always know somehow. He sends word or we see him on the news. And this time…’

‘Radio silence?’ Amelia finished.

Charlie chuckled in response; her shoulders held less tension.

‘What do you need me to find out?’

The princess thought for a moment. ‘Everything about that letter he got; who sent it, what was in there. Oh, and where was he during the-.’

Angel groaned loudly. ‘Ya really not gonna ask how the strawberry pimp got his powers? You’ll be paying a crap ton anyway so might as well get ya money’s worth.’

‘Angel!’ Charlie warned.

‘If ya knew where he gets his mojo from, maybe you’d have the upper hand for once.’

‘Anthony,’ Amelia’s clipped accent sounded alien in the environment. ‘Would it be fair of me to ask you to return to the lobby and remain there until our business is conducted?’

Angel rolled his eyes. ‘I’ll keep quiet,’ he mumbled before taking a loud sip of his tea.

Amelia let out a heated breath. ‘Charlotte, to finalise, what information do you require?’

Charlie gnawed on her lip in contemplation. ‘Everything about the letter, where he was and the source of his power.’

‘For an individual like Alastor, I will require a large sum for compensation.’

‘How much?’

‘A deposit of a thousand unmarked units of gold. When the job is done, an additional ten thousand units.’

Without missing a beat, Charlie agreed. Amelia could see Angel’s jaw threatening to unhinge and fall into the deepest pits of hell. Soon after they settled and agreed upon further details of the investigation. Angel will again play the “middle-man” between Charlie and Amelia. Angel was to visit Amelia every week. If any ground-breaking piece of information was uncovered, Amelia was to meet with Charlie at the hotel under a disguise.

No contract was signed and instead a gentleman’s agreement was made. This was to ensure that if Alastor were to catch wind of such a ploy that he wouldn’t be able to uncover who sent the private eye. Amelia conducted an interview with Charlie regarding Alastor and what happened on the day he received the letter. When all things were said and done, Amelia bade a simple farewell to the demons and sent them back outside with another portal.

The private eye looked out the magnificent window that made Hell look more beautiful than it actually was.

‘Boss, I’ll be heading home now. Need anything?’ Asked Don.

Amelia’s raven curls slid over her shoulder as she turned back to look at him. ‘No, thank you. Watch yourself out there.’

‘You too, boss.’ The door clicked softly.

Amelia leaned back against her desk and returned to stare at Lucifer’s kingdom. Once more she fell into a reverie and lost herself. Eventually, she snapped out of it and leaves her office to return to her rustic cottage.

That night, she slept like a new-born.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I wanted to finish writing the whole story before uploading it on here but after a while I started to lose the motivation to write. A friend recommended that I start uploading and see what happens. I have no beta readers so I apologise for any grammatical and writing errors. At the time of this upload, I am almost done with chapter 7 and plan to upload 1 to 2 chapters every week. This story should have about 10 to 11 chapters and I will do my best to upload on time (if this is a kind of story that people want). 
> 
> I am trying to become a better writer and have done my best to put out something that is worth your time. Any constructive criticism is appreciated. I hope all of you are healthy and well!


	2. The Search Begins.

The scent of sulphur is easily associated with rotten eggs. In this ghetto, it would not be wrong to assume that the walls of the huts and broken homes were smeared and basted with decayed seed.

The almost two-metre tall alligator walked the streets of this ghetto and ensured not to breathe through his mouth. His red plaid shirt was riddled with moth holes and blue jeans muddied with filth and grime. The citizens of such neighbourhood could be seen lingering around alleyways, munching on filthy cigarettes they found in waste bins. The alligator moved through the streets and kept his eyes straight ahead. The degenerates would find eye contact offensive, and he wasn’t here to fight.

In the distance he spotted a magnificent mansion on a hill that overlooked the slums. One of a kind it was, flaunting eight storeys and a balcony held up by marble pillars. It would be considered unwise for a house of its beauty and vulgar wealth to be in such proximity to a cesspool but these were no normal circumstances.

The alligator knocked on the rusted metal door and waited. He looked around to make sure of his safety.

‘Whaddya want?’ Came a gravelly voice from behind the door.

‘That mansion.’ The alligator pointed over his shoulder. ‘See anything special a few days ago?’

The answer was immediate. ‘How about ya fuck off?’

The alligator focused on the peep hole. ‘Protectin’ him? He’s got that balcony, probably sips tea while watching all your asses stew in the gutter. Help a gator out, will ya?’

The silence stretched long enough for the alligator to think the occupant left. He took a step back but was interrupted. ‘Okay I saw some shit, happened like a week ago. What’s it you?’

‘Make it worth my time.’ He looked around and then raised a single gold coin to the peep hole. ‘And I’ll be sure to pay ya, for the truth,’ he stressed the latter.

He heard the demon cuss followed by the sounds of numerous chains and locks being moved about. The door opened to reveal a short fat bulldog demon, beckoning him to come in. The alligator went inside and made himself welcome on the brown sofa that sported numerous patches of mould and indistinguishable stains. The smell of the house indicated a lack of a restroom.

‘Okay.’ The demon hopped on the sofa and fixed the alligator with a harsh glare. It stuck out his paw. ‘Pay up, buddy.’

‘I’ll pay when you tell me what I wanna know. So, talk and I’ll be outta ya hair.’

The numerous wrinkles and folds on the dog’s face deepened. ‘Ya better not screw me over, I swear to Lilith’s sweet ass I will kill you.’

‘Start from the beginning, don’t spare the details.’

The dog rolled its eyes. ‘it was like, what, early mornin’? I was out takin’ a leak when I heard glass break. I look up to that mansion and see some freak’s just broken the window. Didn’t see the guy’s face but he looked real fucking tall. He jumped into the house and that was the last I saw of him.’

‘Ya sure it was a guy?’

‘I didn’t see no tits or ass so yeah, damn sure.’

‘He still in the house?’

‘Ya fuckin’ crazy? I didn’t stay there to find out. Imagine if Weird Al saw me watchin’ his place get raided, fuck no.’

The alligator considered his words for a moment. ‘Anythin’ else?’

The dog slurped its drool. ‘I dunno. Memory’s a lil’ woozy’.’

In response, he produced another gold coin and rubbed the two together. ‘How’s this for clearin’ things?’

‘Aww yeah, now its comin’ to me.’ The dog’s tailed wagged and audibly tapped against the sofa. ‘Next day, Bambi came down here and just took three guys.’

‘What guys?’

‘Some nobodies, they saw his smiley ass and spat on his shoes. That’s what I heard.’

The alligator raised a brow.

‘Hey!’ the dog barked. ‘I know it’s true. Folks say he was real pissed and just wanted to take it out on somebody. Each night, he would kill one of the poor fucks. Just like he said he would, really made sure we could hear ‘em scream.’

‘He wasn’t broadcasting the murders, though.’

The demon laughed. ‘Y’think his prickly ass would want everyone to know that he is killin’ some low-lifes?’

The alligator nodded in agreement. ‘That all?’

‘Yeah, your turn.’

He tossed the coins onto the dog’s lap. ‘Thanks, gorgeous. I’ll see myself out.’ The reptile left the bulldog’s home and stepped into the sulphur streets. He hummed to himself as he walked the path that led him away from the slums and closer to the infamous mansion.

*

The walls slowly grew in size as the alligator approached. With the walls in sight, the alligator began to morph. The stocky legs became thin and long, the waist narrowed and the scales gave way to smooth pale skin, the female curves began to set in and the reptilian mug was replaced with the soft oval face of Amelia.

Scaling the walls proved to be no issue with the aid of her alter ego, who dashed over the walls and tossed a rope over.

Amelia landed on her feet and nodded to the shadowy figure that took on her likeness. It faded away and she felt it return to her shadow.

The private eye adjusted her trilby hat and stepped towards the mansion. On the porch, she knelt and took a gander at the lock and noted its type. It appeared simple enough. Then, why did the infiltrator enter through the window?

Amelia got up to her feet and looked for the entry point. All the windows were intact but she could assume that the unknown demon broke at least one on the ground floor. Inside the house, Amelia could see shadows stir about like smoke; they were watching her. Ignoring them, she took in the architecture of the building. Eight stories, all lavishly put together with virgin white marble. On the inside was pure darkness but she could see that the curtains were red.

Amelia took her time scanning the purple grass in close proximity to the mansion, ensuring the angle favoured the sights of the slums to narrow her search. Maybe something was left behind?

The answer to that did not come in the form of glass shards, instead as scorch marks. They were minimal in appearance yet present. Amelia crouched and took in their shape. The dark flecks gave no secrets away. The grass had grown in quickly, as most plants of Hell do, and further reminding Amelia that nothing was ever that easy.

She huffed. Alastor himself could have left the mark, he appeared to have been furious enough. In spite of this, Amelia trimmed off pieces of the burnt grass and carefully sealed it in a clear plastic bag. Once more, she went to examine the lock. Nothing special.

Ensuring her latex glove was still in place, she pressed on the door lever and tried to push the door open. It was no surprise that it was locked firmly and gave little way to her push.

Amelia was tempted to pick the lock but decided against it. The risk at the current moment was too great, she would have no clue if he was coming. The private eye was anything but a fool. She knew exactly what kind of demon he was and not to mention the man he once was.

The mansion was well behind her now but she looked back. Her red lips pressed together into a thin line. Amelia’s heterochromatic blue-brown eyes stared as though Alastor’s residence would be the last thing she would ever see.

Eventually, she turned away and shoved her hands into the pockets of her short box coat. Amelia could feel that she was being watched. The feeling went away soon after she scaled the walls and left the Radio Demon’s compound.

*

The rows of tall shelves were filled to the brim with folders. The large room being stuffed as it is, it would be difficult to believe the fact it was hidden behind the bookshelf in the private eye’s office. Amelia searched for a particular folder on the shelf she meticulously labelled with the letter “A”. She reached for files of the upper compartment but found her disadvantageous height prevented her getting them. She exhaled sharply and stood on her tip toes but to no avail.

‘Don!’ she called exasperatedly.

She heard the sound of his heavy footsteps entering her office. ‘Boss?’

‘In here!’

He entered the room, his hulking figure blocking most of the light from her office. ‘Oh, my hero arrives,’ she said breathlessly. ‘I need to get a file from the upper shelf.’

Don approached without question. His black eyes scanned the large array of files to choose from. ‘All of these?’

Amelia took the hint. ‘Just the one that says “Alastor”.’

He nodded and began searching through the files.

Don was a silent demon but Amelia knew, from all her years working with him, when he suppressed his speech. ‘I didn’t want you knowing whom I was investigating.’

‘It’s okay, boss.’

Amelia smiled. ‘You’re not afraid of dying?’

‘Part of the job. But-’ He plucked the thick file from the rest. ‘You need to be caught first.’

She took the file from him. ‘Quite true.’ Amelia entered her office and dropped the file on her desk. It landed with a thud. She seated herself in the executive chair and positioned the file in front of her. She noticed Don exiting the file room and instructed him to secure the bookshelf back into place.

‘That all?’

‘Take the rest of the day off, I’ll see you tomorrow.’

‘Alright. See ya, boss.’

The door of her office shut and she was finally alone. Her delicate hand traced the edge of the pale-yellow folder, kept shut by black elastic bands. She gingerly pulled off the elastics and opened the folder.

Amelia remembered that his was one of the first files she began putting together decades ago, in the case she needed it. The last piece of data she put in greeted her with a smile filled with malice. A news article detailing how he hung a few higher demons with their own intestines. The picture of him was taken without his notice. In said image he was smiling, as he always did, watching the life leave the bodies of the demons.

Pulling out a fresh piece of parchment, Amelia began writing an update.

*

If it wasn’t Hell, the cottage would have looked warmer and more inviting. Instead it looked plain and out-of-place among the stylish and boastful buildings. Had she the opportunity, Amelia would take her quaint cottage and place it in the moors. She would happily live out the rest of her eternity there, away from the hustle and bustle of Hell’s centre.

It must be stated that nothing was stopping Amelia. Truth be told, the private eye had no concrete answer to why she hadn’t retired. She had affluence that could be compared with the High Overlords. Amelia would tell herself that there was no rush, what is the harm in earning more gold?

The tombstone radio buzzed with life and emitted random screeches and sounds as Amelia adjusted its dials. When she tuned into her desired radio station, she pranced to the chaise lounge and draped herself over it. The short baby blue silk robe hiked up slightly, denuding her pale thigh as she adjusted her body into a comfortable position.

“…oh Roxanne, you should ‘ave seen ‘er greasy wig. Enough to make mayonnaise, I promise you…”

Amelia contently sipped her white wine and listened to the scuttlebutt radio show. The demoness would never admit to enjoying such genre of entertainment. She considered it to be her own dirty little secret, making it all the more delectable.

The broadcasters snickered amongst themselves, like a shared inside joke spoken between friends.

“…we absolutely have to talk about the opening of the Casablanca. Valentino never fails to impress, oh yes.” The sultry and warm voice Amelia recognised to be of Roxanne; the radio show host. “I was there, for the information of our lovely listeners. You should have been there, Curie. Lilith sang beautifully.”

“Zat is because she ‘as some Angel in ‘er, if you catch my meaning.” Curie snickered.

“Ever so tactful. My sources say that she is trying to cover up the embarrassment that is her fledgling. That hotel, goodness gracious, what was she thinking?”

“I wonder ‘ow long before it closes, hmm?”

Amelia scowled and took a sip of wine. The broadcasters continued to speak of the new casino; Casablanca and the guests of value at its opening. Keenly she listened to the comments regarding the garb and accessories. This segment she followed along easily. Amelia took pride in the way she dressed and presented herself and was not afraid to claim herself as an expert on fashion. When the commercial break came, Amelia’s mind wandered back to her current investigation.

The notes she made visualised in her mind. She had found out that Alastor was at his home during the absence. There was still the matter of the letter and his source of power.

The strangeness of the situation was not lost to her. Charlie lacked the cynicism that almost every demon had. Every time the Hazbin hotel was mentioned it would be the butt of a joke. The more Amelia thought of it, the more she came to understand that the demons spoke from a place of hopelessness. The bulldog from the slums came to mind, a creature that spent its entire life in poverty would not know what to do with a bag of gold. It would spend it all in an unwise manner and be back to where it began.

She nodded to herself. When she first fell into hell years ago, she looked for a way out of the burning pit. Amelia managed to make her living in the twisted kingdom but that hope she once had was long gone and, in its place, sat scepticism.

Charlie’s motivations became clear to the private eye, for both the hotel and Alastor.

Selflessness, by every aspect of the word.

Amelia was pulled away from wool-gathering as Roxanne’s distinct voice announced the end of commercials. She wet her soft lips with another sip of wine, letting herself be whisked away once again into the world of the radio show.

*

Charlie angrily moved her things about, making space on the red oak table. ‘Why couldn’t Lucifer come himself?’

When the gazelle did not reply, Charlie looked up from the clutter and saw the demon shutting the door firmly. She gaped as it pulled out a red velvet pouch and began sprinkling its contents along the length of the door. Without a second thought Charlie pulled out the Angel blade she kept fastened beneath her work table.

‘Wait!’ the gazelle raised its hooves at her. Before her very eyes, the gazelle morphed into someone more familiar. ‘Better?’ Amelia asked playfully, earning a small laugh from the princess. She didn’t lower her weapon.

‘We didn’t agree to this,’ she stated suspiciously.

‘Unless they were pressing matters.’ Amelia lifted the stark black briefcase. ‘May we begin?’

Charlie glanced over Amelia’s shoulder. ‘You warded the door?’

Amelia nodded. ‘No one can hear us nor enter without our consent.’

‘Okay, sit.’ She put the blade back under the table. Charlie then sat down and exhaled heavily. Amelia noticed the dark circles under her eyes.

The raven-haired demon undid the clasp on the briefcase and took out a file. She walked over to Charlie’s side, removing a slip of paper and placed it before her.

‘What’s this?’

‘A detailed report on where Alastor was in his absence. Home.’

Charlie’s delicate hands lifted the paper briefly before looking up at Amelia. ‘Just gimme an overview.’

‘Someone broke into his house; located in southwest of the pentagram. He went into ghetto the next day and “adopted” three men. He killed one each night and then came back here. These are from eyewitness reports.’

Charlie went silent and pressed her lips together. Her eyes scanned Amelia’s report and left no character unread. ‘Why couldn’t this wait?’ Her voice was small but strongly solemn.

One hand resting on Charlie’s chair and the other on her desk, Amelia leaned close to the princess. ‘Think, young Charlotte. Who would dare challenge someone like him?’

Charlie’s eyes snapped to meet hers. ‘Another high demon,’ she breathed.

Amelia slapped her hand on the table, ‘Exactly.’ The private eye moved away abruptly; Charlie looked after her in confusion.

‘And that means…?’

‘I have my work cut out for me.’ Amelia calmly paced the room; rubbing her chin. ‘I am willing to bet this demon is the sender of the esteemed white envelope. Find the demon, find the message,’ Amelia thought aloud.

Charlie gnawed her lower lip. ‘Is Alastor in trouble?’

The question caught Amelia off-guard. She stopped in her tracks so suddenly that the skirt of her emerald dress swayed. There it was again, that alien selflessness. ‘Demons like him usually are,’ she replied. Charlie nodded silently and linked her hands on the desk. The sight before her stirred a strange emotion in Amelia. ‘Charlotte, you have set before me three tasks and I’ve already completed one. Any new information, I will give to you. I might learn something to Alastor’s betterment.’

‘Umm, thanks?’ Was the lame reply.

Unsatisfied, Amelia pressed further. ‘Forgive my curious nature, deny me if you will and there will be no hard feelings.’ Amelia leaned back on the desk. ‘Have you noticed that Alastor is unkind?’

Charlie smiled at that. ‘A real understatement but yeah.’

‘Answer me if you wish: why do you worry about his well-being? He has done you no favours from what I heard.’

Charlie shrugged. ‘Honestly, it’s because he helped me out with the hotel more than mom and dad did.’

Amelia’s brows raised. ‘Wasn’t the hotel meant to be a source of entertainment for him? You told me of your first encounter.’

The princess crossed her arms and huffed. ‘He helped me when I needed it but I’m not saying I’d skin my back for him or something.’

She thought for a moment. ‘Just to remind you, he would consider this investigation very rude.’

‘Yeah yeah, I know. I won’t say anything; burn papers after reading; deny everything, you told me.’

‘Glad that we are on the same page.’ Amelia began to pack up her briefcase. From the corner of her eyes she could see the silent yet forlorn royal. She felt the stir again. ‘When I first fell into Hell, this was a place I wish was available.’

Charlie’s eyes lit up. ‘You wanted to be redeemed?’

‘That is true and you will find that no other demon would confess as I just have. Their time in hell has stomped out any hope they might’ve had.’ She clicked the clasp into place.

‘Maybe there is a way to give them hope?’

Amelia looked into the purest eyes of hell. So innocent and angelic, giving no doubt Lucifer was her father. The private eye smiled. ‘I think you’re appealing to the wrong demographic.’

Charlie’s brow furrowed. Once the initial confusion cleared, her features then brightened; her eyes twinkled with excitement. It was clear that the true meaning of Amelia’s words was not lost on her. Amelia took her briefcase and broke the line of the blue crystalline powder with the tip of her black Oxford shoe. Her form morphed into one of a gazelle’s within seconds. ‘Until the next time,’ she said over her shoulder and left without waiting for a reply.

*

The hooves of the gazelle clicked against the hardwood floor. This particular hallway was not decorated or dressed due to a persistent water leak that would return soon after repairs. Amelia considered the young housekeeper, Niffty to be quite the talker.

The lights were so dim in the hallway that one would think candles were being used instead. With the mentioned issues, it shouldn’t be surprising that the lights were not in perfect condition.

Amelia once again was lost in her thoughts during her gait. A mistake would be thinking that she was left vulnerable to her surroundings in the reverie. She noticed it almost immediately, a shadow that trailed after her and used the dim lighting to its advantage. The disguised private eye continued walking without a change in pattern, her mind reminding her of the Webley revolver on her person should the need arise.

In a way, she knew who it was and knew that the anticipated meeting would happen.

The shadow rushed in front of her, Amelia jumped back just before it materialised to reveal its true nature. His red eyes and menacing grin shone in the darkness and the static prickled across her skin. There he stood before her in all his glory, Alastor.

Amelia knew that one day, in her eternal afterlife, that she would see him again. She could have poured over dozens of images and broadcasts to prepare but nothing could have ever equipped her emotionally for this moment. Decades passed and there he was before her. Disregarding her emotion, she reminded herself of the true state of affairs.

‘What is this? A prowler?’

His voice sounded like a radio broadcast, too. The gazelle looked him up and down in a disinterested manner, as though he was no more than a dead frog floating in a sewer. ‘I came to see her highness. Don’t bother me, bucko.’ She tried to move past him but he was quick to block her path.

‘Whatever for, madam? Now, now don’t glare at me.’ He leaned uncomfortably close her face. ‘As her business partner-’

‘It was about her family; personal business.’ She pushed past him and continued onwards. Amelia felt his unrelenting stare on her back and knew he was going to follow. His persistence was something that remained with him even after death. Amelia had every reason to run and flee from the Radio Demon but she maintained her composure. If he were to discover her identity, that alone would raise the need of her Webley. In a flash he was at her side once more and joined her in her walk. ‘Ah I haven’t seen the King in so long! Tell me dear and tell me true, how is he?’

‘Buddy, get off my back will ya?’ This time, her phrasing was no act.

He guffawed and grabbed her hand, giving it a good shake. ‘The name is Alastor, my dear!’

‘Good for you.’ She tried to pull away but his grip was unforgiving. His claws dug cruelly into her skin. She knew what he wanted from her; to cry out or at the very least to show discomfort. No, she would not grant him the feeling of schadenfreude at her expense.

‘Don’t be shy and introduce yourself. No crowd here, ha!’

The gazelle scowled and her nose wrinkled. Within, Amelia was equal parts furious and terrified. ‘Clarice.’

Alastor looked down at her with half-lidded eyes. It was as though he could see through her disguise and how he made her skin crawl. His smugness knew no bounds.

‘A pleasure to meet you!’ he replied enthusiastically.

A snort grabbed their attention. At the end of the hallway was a small piglet. It was plump and had cheeks made for pinching. Amelia approached it and tapped on its snout. ‘How precious.’

Alastor cachinnated. ‘Looks like I have some work to do!’ He scooped up the piglet and waved to Amelia. ‘Until the next time, Clarice!’ He laughed once more before walking away, leaving Amelia in perturbed silence.

On her way to the exit, she passed a set of doors labelled “Kitchen”.

‘…gimme back my baby or I swear Al-’

‘Oh, stop please! I am so very terrified. Ha-ha!’

Amelia heard the sound of things thrown about and glass breaking. Discreetly, she edged the door open and peeked inside. Lo and behold, a destroyed kitchen and two demons fighting over the pig. The two demons being Alastor and Angel which came as no surprise to Amelia. The kitchen was in shambles; shards of porcelain littered the tiled floor, silverware strewn about, knives stuck to the wall as though they were thrown, and a broken tap that spewed water like a fountain.

‘I’ll cut ya dick off ya fuckin’ shitlord.’ Angel lunged at Alastor. The Radio Demon effortlessly avoided the spider demon and continued to hold the piglet in his large arms. Angel crashed into a spice cabinet, causing it to spill its contents all over the floor.

As easily as she came, she left the two to their own devices. The demoness walked just a little faster to the hotel’s exit lest she be caught by another distraction. She passed a grandfather clock on her way out and noted the late hour.

Amelia breathed a sigh of relief when she finally left the hotel. She began to feel the pains of a long day settling into her bones. The private eye maintained her disguise in spite of her tiredness and walked at least a kilometre away from the hotel before shifting into her true form.

Amelia returned home soon after and called her secretary, informing him not to come to work tomorrow. She had an idea on how to find the one who bedevilled Alastor and it did not involve sitting behind a desk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I do not have a beta reader so I apologise for any spelling or grammatical errors. I appreciate any constructive criticism and comments.


	3. Bleeding Obsidian.

When world war two ended in the year 1945, many great inventions and innovations followed. Among them was the 1948 Cadillac Series 62. The sleek design, the distinct white sidewalls of the tyres, and not to mention the air of sophistication it exhumed; these were all the perks that drew Amelia to this specific car.

The demoness was not in Hell long when 1948 rolled by. Her coin purse was too shallow to purchase the fine beauty. She promised herself that the car would be hers one day. After making a name for herself in Hell and earning enough gold, Amelia found that the model of Cadillac was no longer produced. Although disappointed and saddened by the news, she used the money to purchase her now beloved cottage and decorated it to fit her tastes.

Years later she was hired by the royal owl demon named Stolas. It was a simple investigation which Amelia carried out successfully, to the delight of Stolas. After informing him of the investigation’s results, Stolas prompted Amelia to sit with him and indulge him in thoughtful conversation. She obliged. Hours passed and the conversation came to an end, to which Stolas asked her: “If you could have one thing in this world, what would it be?”

Her answer all those years ago was the sole reason she currently waited in a black 1948 Cadillac Series 62 for her contact to arrive.

Amelia did not turn her head when the former physician tapped on her window.

‘Get in,’ she said firmly. Her eyes observing the area.

The door to the front passenger seat and opened and the contact hopped in. ‘Mrs Langdon,’ he greeted.

‘Herr Entress.’ She pressed the gas pedal and began driving through the chaotic streets of Hell. ‘What did you find?’

‘I must zay dat I was fooled, almost. Der sample you gave me vas very strange indeed.’

‘Strange?’

‘Ja, it vas like black glass.’

She exhaled disappointedly. She turned the wheel and went from a tar road into one paved with gravel. Amelia reduced the speed while going through the dark narrow street. The area had few citizens and many unfinished cinderblock houses. The streets were not illuminated with any lights so Amelia depended solely on her eyes and the car’s lights.

Eventually, the Cadillac rolled to a stop beneath a bridge. Lewd and vulgar graffiti was scrawled on the pillars. Turning off the car’s lights spared both passengers from looking at the poor drawings any longer than necessary. Amelia looked around and checked every space she could beyond the car while seated. The coast was clear.

She turned to address the weasel demon and saw that he was handing her a report. Her blue-brown eyes looked at his face briefly before taking the paper. In the little light she had, she read the report. Amelia’s eyes widened.

‘Obsidian, frauline,’ he said in a lowered voice.

‘It can’t be.’

‘Der data does not lie, look longer if you must. It will not change.’

‘Tell me, Friedrich.’ She fixed him with a stern look. ’Does obsidian melt?’

‘Make it hot enough, ja. Around two thousand and eight hundred Celsiuz.’ He pointed at the paper. ‘Everything about der rock iz in there.’

Amelia held her chin and read the report thoroughly. Old theories she had for the scorch marks were broken and new ones began to form in her mind. Hell itself stood at about two hundred Celsius, so the obsidian could not have melted due to the environment like ice cream would. That could mean that something or someone brought melted obsidian and dripped it onto the grass. Once more, Amelia encountered a counter-argument: if it were that hot, why did a hole not form in the grass? Such heat would ruin even the mightiest flora of Hell, the effects on a patch of meek grass would be incomparable. 

‘You look like you’re in trouble, Mrs Langdon.’

She chuckled. ‘In all honesty, I am better prepared for this than I was with those blasted Nazis.’ She glanced at him. ‘No offence.’

Friedrich rolled his eyes. ‘Du you have to keep bringing up der Nazis every time you’re with me?’

‘Of course. You bastards took my eye.’ She pointed to her blue eye jokingly.

The weasel rubbed his face. ‘Are we done here?’

‘Why? Do your plants complain when you’re gone too long?’

He would be beet red if every part of his body wasn’t covered in fur. He adjusted the cuffs of his tan suit and ignored her.

‘Not very fond of jests today, I see,’ she sounded disappointed. She waved the file. ‘I’ll be keeping this, just to inform you.’

‘Dat was der intention.’

Amelia pulled her briefcase from the backseat and tucked in the new addition to the case files. Turning the car lights back on, she reversed out from the secluded spot and went on to return to the more populated regions of Hell. Friedrich and her sat in silence on the way back, save for a few words and comments exchanged.

At the foot of Friedrich’s apartment building, Amelia stopped to let him out. He stepped out from the vehicle and smoothed out his suit. ‘I would tell you stay safe but I know it vill be in vain.’

Keeping one hand on the steering wheel, Amelia leaned towards the passenger exit all while remaining in her seat. With an askew smile, she looked up at Friedrich. ‘If it’s all the same to you, I try.’

He chortled then tipped his hat to her. ‘Farewell, Mrs Langdon.’ He shut the door and watched as the glossy black Cadillac pulled away from the curb and continue on its way. Friedrich smiled as though he wondered with child-like amusement: where was she going next?

*

The silence in the car was deafening and her thoughts were no help either. The constant shuffling between ideas and theories was a phenomenon Amelia could not simply switch off. She needed all the information before her, no detail discarded. This was not to say that Amelia had terrible memory, on the contrary she was well-known for her sharp mind and perfect recollection of events long past. Amelia simply had a preference on how she arranged all the information to fill in the missing gaps.

Alastor’s case was not unlike a stubborn cub; unwilling to co-operate under any circumstances and prepared to bite should the need arise. What Amelia wanted was to return to her office and pin all the notes, reports, pictures and whatever else she had on the tortuous case on her cork board. It had been a long time since she was hired to take on a matter as complex as this.

She turned on the car radio and listened to the jazz radio station.

Amelia listened contently, tapping her gloved fingers on the steering wheel with the slow beats. Out of the blue, a particular tune began to play and notes of the saxophone struck a chord within her. The burning heat of Hell could not have stopped the chill that went up her spine. She heard this song before, she realised. Nostalgia took her over and she turned up the volume, letting the music flow through her.

It brought her back to a time when things were more innocent and, to say the very least, simpler.

*

Flowers can be described as sweet or light. Coffee, on the other hand, is difficult to describe to those who have never experienced its smell. Warm would be one way but could it really encompass the smell of the freshly roasted beans?

The woman across her smiled behind the cup of espresso. She watched her companion take a sip of the warm latte. The companion; a woman with raven hair and brown eyes appeared to ponder the taste. ‘Well?’

‘Milky,’ she giggled. ‘Just needs a dollop of chocolate.’ She set the clear glass cup on the round wood table before her.

The woman rolled her eyes and took a sip of her espresso. ‘Why does everything have to have chocolate in it?’

The one of raven hair crossed her legs. ‘Because that’s how it should be,’ she retorted.

The woman giggled before she too set down her coffee. ‘Tell me how you’ve been, Amelia. Work, auditions, men, everything,’ she asked excitedly.

Amelia blushed slightly. ‘Work is the same as always. Mr Collins is as busy as ever but he gave me a day off to go to an audition. A small role but any experience helps,’ she explained.

The woman bit her inner cheek. ‘That Mr Collins sure is nice but you sure you want to be his assistant forever?’

‘Oh Cindy, but the work is absolutely riveting!’ She rested her face on her hand. ‘It feels like I’m in one of those detective radio shows.’

‘I dunno, the old guy’s a bit of a creep.’

Amelia pouted. ‘Don’t be so hard on me. I had to get my pennies from somewhere. At least until I get my big break, then you’ll be seeing me in the same room as Joan Crawford,’ she said dreamily.

‘And how is Evelyn?’

‘Little Evelyn,’ Amelia joked. ‘Graduating from high school this year. Mother talks about how the years flew by, she is soft like that.’ She ran fingers though her brushed out curls. ‘Ah here I am going on and on about myself, how have you been?’

Cindy took a sip of her coffee before speaking. ‘I got a job at Marie’s Boutique, workin’ as a seamstress now,’ she smiled ruefully.

Amelia moved a little forward in her seat. ‘Why the sour face?’

‘I never wanted to work after I turned twenty. Now I got no ring on my finga’ and work.’

‘Oh, don’t worry. You’re beautiful, witty and just a joy to be around,’ she smiled brightly. ‘Any man worth his salt would rush you to the altar as soon as he gets a hold of you.’

This appeared to please Cindy who straightened up and puckered her lips. The expression made Amelia chuckle. ‘You are absolutely right.’ Cindy flipped her blonde hair over shoulder. ‘You should hear about this devil that comes to the boutique…’

Amelia listened to the story contently as she sipped her latte. Cindy spoke of a dapper man that is a regular at her workplace and believes that he is trying to get her attention. Similar stories and gossip were exchanged between the two young women. Cindy was a year older than the nineteen-year-old Amelia and would constantly remind the Brit that she had a duty to find a husband as soon as possible. It was no secret that Amelia was a huge romantic, as were the other women her age. The thought of getting married to a Mr dark and handsome would draw a dreamy sigh from her lips.

Every girl had her reason to marry, Amelia’s happened to be for love and comfort.

The two prattled on for almost two hours, this was when Cindy looked at the time and stated she had to be elsewhere. She paid for her coffee and left. Amelia had no obligations that day and ordered another coffee, a mocha this time. From her purse she pulled out a novel titled “A Farewell to Arms” by Ernest Hemmingway. Leaning back into the soft wingback chair, she opened the book and continued to read from where she left off. Soon she forgot about the world around her as she delved deep into the book. Only one thing would occasionally remind her of the real world; the soft tones of swing played in the coffee shop.

*

One look at her analogue watch and Amelia knew her mother was going to be furious. In spite of this, Amelia didn’t rush. It was already late and stressing herself would not turn back the clock. She put away the book and paid for her coffee. Amelia stepped out the door and put on her felt hat. The cool air hit her face as she stepped out into the bustling streets of New Orleans. The dark sky indicated a time of late evening and the air was much colder than she was dressed for. The morning on that day was hot and the sun shone bright so Amelia went out without a coat. She shivered slightly and reminded herself to get home. No doubt mother had something hot and delicious prepared for dinner.

She began walking home and would sometimes glance at the flashy dance clubs and diners. Amelia passed a number of doting couples, businessmen and giggly flappers. Timid Amelia avoided the eyes of the people that she passed by and focused on a false point in front of her. Occasionally she would glance at the garb that the people wore and hoped that they did not notice. The further she got away from the active centre, the less people she passed on the sidewalk.

‘Is that you, Amelia?’

She stopped and looked at the source of the cheery voice; the brunet wearing a grey plaid suit. She recognised the man before her and smiled.

‘Alistair! Good to see you again.’

‘Likewise, my dear. Where are you off to at this hour?’ His smile was one of genuine concern.

She chuckled nervously. ‘Home. I lost track of time again.’

He laughed merrily as though she said a good joke. A blush dusted her pale cheeks from embarrassment. ‘In all seriousness, dear Amelia, your mother must be worried sick.’

She waved her hand dismissively. ‘Mother is more likely to kill me if I don’t get home soon.’

‘Then I volunteer to walk you home.’

Her blush deepened. ‘Oh, you can’t Alistair. I don’t want to be a bother.’

‘A bother? Impossible! What kind of man would I be to let a young lady walk unescorted while a killer is on the loose?’ He flashed her another handsome smile.

‘Spoken like a true Cavalier,’ she praised. She accepted his offer.

On the way home, Alistair noticed her bare arms and put his suit coat over her shoulders. The sudden warmth was a welcome sensation to her icy skin.

‘Thank you. Mrs Clarice raised a fine gentleman,’ She complimented.

The woman mentioned is Alistair’s beloved mother. The passing of her husband left her alone with her only son. Alistair cared for his mother and remained with her even after he came of age. He had maintained a stable career in hosting a radio show and was able to support the both of them because of it. Mrs Clarice was known for her soft-spoken nature and scrumptious meals.

The two spoke of trivial things and shared a few laughs during their walk.

At her front porch, Amelia turned to Alistair and thanked him once more before returning his coat. They exchanged farewells and Amelia went into her home.

In the living room, her mother glared at her. Amelia explained herself and how she lost track of time and it was why she came home so late. She told her mother, with hopes to lower her worries, that a man accompanied her.

‘You shouldn’t be coming home late in the first place.’ Her mother scowled then exhaled. ‘Who was he?’

‘You know him, mum. I’ve been in one of his radio show skits.’ She fidgeted with her navy-blue skirt. ‘Alistair Durand.’

*

The music was abruptly cut off.

“We interrupt our scheduled programme to tell you of a major battle that is taking place on the east side of the pentagram in the Amdusias region. An unnamed Hellborn has challenged Alastor; demon overlord to a one-on-one battle. The carnage is of a catastrophic level and it is advised to avoid the-”

Amelia was no longer listening to the radio and had steered the Cadillac onto the road that would take her to the east side. Her speed was great and was already half-way there. She did not know what she was going to find or if she would discover anything useful. Though, Amelia was certain of one thing; she needed to attend Alastor’s performance.

*

To find the battlefield, Amelia used her olfactory senses to follow the trail set by the smell of burning carnage and ash. Between the skyscrapers flashes of fire could be seen, and screams could be heard as well. From within the skyscrapers or from the civilians unfortunate enough to be on the streets, who could say?

A multitude of demons rushed away from the site and created a stream of bodies that Amelia had to push through. Against the stream she went and she came closer and closer to the source of their fears. Amelia pressed her back against the brick wall of a destroyed shophouse and took a few breaths. She watched as more demons scurried off to safety.

She heard a loud explosion that was much too close to her. She could feel the vibrations from the ground and not to mention the almost non-existent wall behind her. The vibrations were followed by bone-chilling laughter. One would debate if they even were laughs, the sound was completely warped and distorted to such a terrifying degree that they would make anyone’s blood turn cold.

Alastor was laughing.

She braved a look over the edge of the wall and saw Alastor, who has transformed into something not unlike a deer-leshy hybrid, pinned into the wall of the skyscraper. Demons did grow considerably tall when in their ideal form, especially high demons. Alastor and the griffin demon, who had the former pinned, Amelia estimated to be at least three metres tall.

The colour drained from Amelia’s already pale face as Alastor continued to emit the unholy cackle.

The griffin pushed him harder and Amelia could hear him say: ‘How can you still be laughing? Damn freak!’

Her eyes darted to Alastor. His eyes were a pure blood red and could see his bone-chilling smile. Even from afar she could see it stretched from ear to ear, in a literal sense. His mouth held far too many needle-like teeth that were set disorderly in his oral cavity. Her mouth went dry; Alastor stopped laughing.

‘How can I not!’

The griffin screeched and dragged its talons through Alastor’s back. His pinstripe suit was shredded and the wounded flesh beneath oozed blood onto the tar streets below. The deer demon slammed its head back against the griffon’s face, causing it to screech once more and take a few steps back. Alastor swung his long claws at his opponent. The griffon quickly blocked the attack by covering himself with one of his magnificent golden wings. In an instant, the demon retaliated and lunged at Alastor. This knocked him down and griffon took a superior position over him. His talons pinned Alastor’s arms to his sides and his mighty beak began to dig into the deer’s torso.

Amelia took this opportunity to move closer with hopes to hear any exchange of words that may prove useful. Like a shadow she moved and entered a vacant space that looked like it used to be a lounge of some sort.

The griffin pulled back and swallowed, his beak drenched in blood and flesh. ‘Where is it, Al?’

Amelia edged closer.

Once again came the terrifying laugh but weaker this time. Her years of watching Alastor told her he would have killed the griffin long ago. She dismissed it to him wanting to play with his food. That was when the demon bit off Alastor’s ear and her theory changed instantly. The griffin swallowed the blood-drenched ear and looked down at the deer demon.

Her lips pressed together and her heart raced at the sight. It was all very surreal. She felt as though she was witnessing history unfold before her.

‘I’m gonna enjoy this.’

Amelia watched as Alastor tried to pull his arms from the creature’s grip but to no avail. This was the natural order, she reminded herself, demons killed other demons for dominance. This was how Hell functions for aeons. Try as she might, Amelia couldn’t shake the suspicion that came from the scene before her. Alastor was stronger and his abilities were far superior to those of the griffin. What was stopping him?

Amelia watched in silence, wondering if Alastor has accepted his fate.

The face of Lucifer’s daughter flashed in her mind. Every time she thought of Charlie, the same feeling would stir inside her, the feeling she still had no name for. Amelia at a loss of words because of a slip of a demoness, who would have thought? The image of Charlie came from a memory, her small hands wrung nervously and eyes filled with worry. “Is Alastor in trouble?”

A gunshot rang through the plaza. The griffin reared on its hind legs and let out a pained screech. His blood spurted continuously and painted the sidewalk red. The wound on its neck kept pouring.

Amelia scowled in confusion. The smoke and smell of gunpowder brought her to the realisation that she had drawn her Webley. Though she was not the only one who came to that discovery, the griffin lunged at the lounge and slammed itself against the walls. The force of the impact sent the private eye flying through the lounge. Her impromptu flight was stopped by a pillar; her body slammed against it and she fell on the hardwood floors. The world around her was spinning and she could hear a distant ringing noise.

She tried to get up on her hands and knees but felt a sharp pain in her left side. She groaned in pain and fell once more. The griffin slammed against the walls again and Amelia’s vision blurred. Her mind screamed at her to get up and she complied, this time favouring her left side.

Her eyes darted around the space around her to find her prized revolver. The task proved difficult as the room swayed around her. Blood dripped from her head and some trailed down her face, obscuring Amelia’s vision in one eye.

The shiny metal of her Webley almost called to her from under one of the sofas. She clambered over to the gun like a toddler would for a piece of candy. The glass shards cut into her palms and drew blood but her goal was clear.

Amelia pulled the gun out and she propped herself up against the sofa. She silently thanked her lucky stars that her shooting arm was unaffected. She aimed at the space where the window once was. She squinted as blood pooled down the side of her face and she tried her best at steadying her aim. A sense of déjà vu came over her. She shot milliseconds before the griffin slammed into the wall. The bullet went clean through its chest. It squawked irritatingly as blood soaked his once white feathers with red essence.

Amelia knew that another hit would bring down the walls and her life would depend on where the last four bullets would hit. However, the fourth hit never came.

The ground shook as the tar road parted to give way to muscular black tentacles and which grabbed at the griffon’s appendages. Amelia got up on shaky legs and watched as Alastor strolled towards the restrained demon. She could see that he breathed heavily and his posture was slightly hunched. It would be best to blame it all on his gruesome injuries. Regardless, Alastor smiled.

‘If not me, they will.’ The griffin wheezed. It fought against the bonds strongly and stared at Alastor with disgust. 

Alastor was face-to-face with the creature. He tilted his head to the side and appeared to consider the dying griffin. Did he notice that the bullet wounds were not healing?

The deer demon’s sharp claws began to elongate. ‘Smile, my dear.’ Using his thumbs, he stabbed the inside of the griffin’s mouth and began to pull its mouth from ear to ear. The winged creature let out a blood-curdling screech as it fought against its bonds. Its blood oozed in such an abundance that it dripped from Alastor’s wrists. ‘You’re never fully dressed without one.’ Alastor cut its cervical spine and the top of its head fell to the ground. With that, the tentacles dropped the demon’s body and returned to their murky pits, the ground closing after them.

The griffin was dead.

Amelia looked at Alastor’s wicked smile. She noticed it wavered slightly and the deep darkness under his eyes. She sputtered as though someone punched her in the gut. Alastor was looking directly at her. She dropped back to the ground and took her position behind the sofa; keeping her revolver firmly in hand. The need for a third bullet never came. She could hear him walk away; his steps were floundered but quick. ‘Go,’ she said. The shadow pulled away from her and disappeared through the lounge’s backdoor.

Her head fell back and Amelia could taste the blood in her mouth. The moment the barrel was cool enough, Amelia concealed it once more. The private eye’s breathing was laboured and every breath caused a sharp pain in her left side. The demoness knew she was at an advantage and forced herself to stand. She limped to the exit. The Radio Demon was nowhere to be seen.

The dead griffin, now a bloodied mess at her feet, Amelia did examine. She searched for any sort of documentation or papers on him and found nothing. She exhaled disappointedly. The expiration drove another sharp pain into her side which made her place a hand over the tender ribs. Amelia plucked a few of his bloodied feathers and cut off the tip of his tail. These samples she took with her.

Demons started to return to the area and Amelia knew that she had to leave immediately. There was no doubt that the news reporters would be roaming about with their cameras and documenting every inch of the carnage.

Away from the plaza, she rested against her black Cadillac and took more breaths. ‘Show me,’ she whispered. The brown eye flashed blue and she could see the all-too familiar mansion. Amelia was willing to bet all her possessions that this was where Alastor will be for the next few days. She blinked again and the vision was gone. The abandoned parking lot was filthy and the sight offended her eyes.

Amelia’s teeth grit as she opened her car door and searched in her glove box. She removed a small handphone and pressed a few buttons. After taking her place on the front passenger seat, she held the device to her ear and waited with laboured breaths. The line was picked up on the second ring. ‘I know I said to stay home today. Forgive me but-’ She began coughing uncontrollably and a few flecks of blood escaped her hand; staining the dashboard. ‘-I require your assistance.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I do not have a beta reader so I apologise for any spelling or grammatical errors. I appreciate any constructive criticism and comments.


	4. Whiskey River.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to sincerely thank every single one of you that have either left kind words or dropped a kudos on this fanfic. It can be difficult to have the motivation to continue writing to finish a story, but support from readers is truly a great motivator (and not to mention a treat). I enjoy writing and having support makes it so much sweeter than it already is.
> 
> Enough of my prattling, I hope you enjoy this chapter.

‘I would’ve died long ago without you.’ She kicked her flats off. Don, whom she leaned on for stability, grunted. ‘Dead, I tell you! My bloated corpse in a ditch somewhere.’ The bull led her to the loungeroom and helped her settle on the purple velvet chaise lounge. She groaned and her hand flew to her side.

Sounds of things being moved about came from the bull rummaging through Amelia’s medicine cabinet.

‘Your wife is one happy woman. Oh please, tell her I apologise for taking you away so abruptly.’

Don returned with a glowing blue vial and uncorked it. ‘It’s okay, boss.’

Amelia took the vial and drank the contents hungrily. She handed the glass bottle back to him. ‘Thank you,’ she breathed. Don left with the empty vial. The tap squeaked as he turned its handle and wet a kitchen towel. He wrung out the excess water and returned to the injured female. Amelia’s fingers trembled when taking the cloth.

‘I’m a mess, an absolute mess,’ she muttered. She wiped the blood off her face as Don disappeared from the lounge again. Amelia liberated her soft flesh from the stickiness of coagulated blood. Her fingers prodded over scalp. At a certain area, she flinched and pulled her hand away. ‘Ah, I’ve done mucked up again.’ The cloth was used to remove the fresh blood off Amelia’s fingers.

‘Worse than last time, boss.’ Came Don’s gravelly voice from the kitchen.

‘Could you reserve your perennial wisdom for another time?’ Amelia could feel the tiredness in her bones.

Don returned with a mug of American hot chocolate, topped with marshmallows, and set it down on the coffee table before her.

‘Go get yourself something too,’ she commanded. Like a soldier, Don obeyed and returned with milkshake topped with rainbow sprinkles. He settled himself on the plush armchair opposite her. Due to his hulking size, Don made the chair look small but made no indication of it being uncomfortable.

The silence in the room stretched for minutes, Amelia absent-mindedly wiped her face with the blood-stained towel; her scowl soft and mind deep in thought. Don sipped his milkshake occasionally and did not make a sound. In a moment her scowl disappeared and focus returned to her eyes.

‘How did you come so quickly?’

‘Saw the news.’

‘About Alastor’s battle or something else?’

‘The battle.’

Amelia nodded and reached for the cocoa drink. ‘Do you want to ask me anything?’

‘Do you need more bullets from the office?’

Amelia froze and her eyes darted to him.

‘The news said shots were fired,’ he elaborated.

‘And you aren’t handing in your two-week notice.’

Don shrugged and kept his silence.

‘If you still want to work for me, after everything, I have tasks that need to be completed.

‘How much time do I have?’

Amelia smiled. ‘Two days. I’ll be back on my feet until then.’ She sipped the milky beverage and sighed. ‘Listen carefully…’

*

When the “666 News” channel broadcasted news of a fight between Alastor and griffin, Charlie frowned. Alastor somewhat promised to avoid fights now that he counted among the representatives of the hotel. From the recent conversation, Charlie recalled Alastor patting her blonde head and saying; ‘I will be on my best behaviour!’

The exchange meant to mark an end to soiling the hotel’s already bad reputation. The news broadcast indicated otherwise.

Charlie’s frown slipped and a troubled expression took its place. Gunshots were reported.

Angel looked at her from the barstool. ‘Err, Charles?’

‘Yeah?’ Her eyes still glued to the screen of the bar’s television.

‘Does Smiles carry a gun?’

She paused to listen to the broadcast. The body of a mangled griffin was displayed on the screen; the top of its head missing. To add to the gruesome image, a single hole in the neck and chest. From the resolution it became apparent that the image was taken with a smartphone camera and sent to the news channel.

Charlie swallowed. ‘No, he doesn’t.’

‘Yeah, well-’ he took a long swig of beer then slammed the bottle on the bar. ‘-I know who does.’

Charlie’s attention was now wholly on Angel. ‘You’re not saying-’

‘Charlie!’ Vaggie called.

The sound of her girlfriend’s voice causes Charlie to almost fall from the barstool. ‘Coming!’ She darted to the hotel lobby and saw the two familiar faces of Vaggie and the towering bull demon. The latter she could not admit she was familiar with.

‘This is-’

‘Could we speak somewhere privately, ma’am?’ The bull demon asked. Vaggie scowled at the intrusion but kept her silence.

‘Yeah!’ Charlie blurted. ‘I-in my office.’ The princess grabbed the bull by his wrist and dragged him into her office. She shut the door and braced her back against it.

The bull spoke first. ‘Boss has a message for you; when Alastor comes back-’

‘Where is she?’ Charlie whispered.

‘Something came up.’

The princess pulled at her hair. ‘Alastor’s fight, she got involved, didn’t she?’

‘Ma’am,’ the bull pressed. ‘I can’t say much but I have a message. It’s important.’

Charlie nodded and crossed her arms. ‘What is it?’

‘Boss says you gotta tell her when the big guy comes back. No need to call the office immediately, just note the time and let her know when you can.’

‘Is that all?’

‘Yeah.’

Charlie’s shoulders slumped. She thanked the bull for his message and showed him out of the hotel. Vaggie asked a few questions and the princess made up excuses to answer each one.

The hotel, for a change, was busy the past few days with the “recruitment” of a young demon that recently fell into hell. Now that the hotel had a client, they were figuring out ways to carry out the rehabilitation and ensure its success. Charlie noticed that Alastor was entertained at the young demon’s eagerness and had not done anything directly to hinder his path to redemption.

To her shame, Charlie was relieved that Alastor would not be at the hotel. The demon Overlord, so far, did nothing which could inherently destroy her project. The demoness wanted John; the hotel’s only client, to be redeemed. Charlie knew her goals could be considered selfish but she knew John’s success would also be hers. John was going to be how she proved all her doubters wrong.

*

The apartments on Crocell avenue were clean, organised and simple. No one would look twice at the modest structures. This characteristic proved a good enough reason for Herr Entress to buy a unit in the tall apartment building. His home was anything but small. Stepping inside would give the impression of a small forest; numerous species of flora made their home alongside the former physician. The floor was made of grey stone and presented a path between the thick forest to different parts and rooms of the home.

The laboratory was a room of great importance. Most of Amelia’s cases would remain unsolved without the lab and the knowledge of Dr Friedrich. Inside this sterile room, the weasel examined the samples brought to him.

‘Tail and feathers of a griffin,’ he noted. ‘Poorly preserved. After shootzing him like a rabbit, did she have to use a butter knife?’

‘Boss says that she needs the griffin’s DNA pulled from the samples.’

The weasel scrutinised the pieces. ‘I guess she vants me to pass it under der DNA database, too.’

‘Yeah.’

Friedrich pushed back from the white table. ‘Tell her dat it depends if his DNA has been logged before.’ He strode to the clear glass cabinet that displayed polyethylene and glass bottles. After opening the cabinet, he started selecting bottles according to their clear labels.

‘I’ll tell her. Boss also needs another supply of your regenerative serums.’

The lanky demon sighed. ‘Why am I surprised?’ he muttered under his breath. The bull stood stock-still in silence and watched as Friedrich moved constantly between the cabinet and his work table; preparing reagents for DNA extraction.

‘Der extraction will take a few days.’ Friedrich gestured to the array of chemical bottles on his workstation. ‘I must get to work, iz there anything else?’

‘I’ll show myself out,’ Don stated plainly and left the lab coat-wearing demon to his work. The bull still had a few things left to do.

*

The ticking of the grandfather clock echoed through the unnaturally quiet room. The architecture was Victorian in nature and almost all the furniture sported some shade of brown. The natural red light of the pentagram came through the extravagant windows and casted shadows throughout the room. This room in particular was the game room. It contained a pool table, a round table purposed for gambling and a life-sized chess board and pieces. The new but temporary instalment was the petrified butler. His arms outstretched to hold in each hand an apple and another apple sat on top of his head.

‘Hold still, Jerome,’ said the owl demon with elegant tones. He adjusted the throwing knife in his hand before projecting it at the target.

A bright red apple was skewered to the wall behind the butler. The pale demon trembled but maintained his pose.

‘Ha-ha!’ Stolas cheered. ‘You see, my love. My aim is incomparable.’ He turned his head to find the Morris chair empty. The owl blinked. ‘Sometimes I wonder if the dowry was worth it.’

He threw another knife and the second apple took its place on the wall. The lip of the butler quivered; the last apple was on his head.

‘Let’s see if it was skill or luck after all, hmm?’ Stolas teased and selected a new blade from the tray beside him. He aimed and pulled his hand back with intention to throw. The blade did not leave his hand.

‘Your Highness.’ Said the servant.

Stolas lowered the knife and turned to the mouse demon. A whimper came from behind him. ‘I’ll attend to you soon,’ he said over his shoulder. ‘Now, what is it?’

‘A visitor, my Prince.’

‘What kind of visitor?’ he raised a brow.

‘A bull Hellborn. Says he was sent by a Mrs Langdon.’

Stolas’ eyes widened. ‘What in the blazes are you standing around for? Go fetch the Taurus! Shoo!’

The servant scurried away to let in the visitor. Moments later Don walked into the extravagant game room and politely greeted the Prince. Stolas asked for privacy and the servant left the two alone.

Stolas licked his lips. ‘Is there a reason the bewitching investigator did not come?’

Don pulled out a red letter sealed with gold wax and handed it to the owl. Stolas took it in his long elegant claws. The inscription on the wax displayed the initials of the private eye. Upon turning it the name of the recipient was written with a graceful hand in exquisite gold ink. The Prince let out a little gasp.

His magical moment was ruined by the grating voice of Don. ‘Boss only wanted me to give you the letter.’

‘Good, get out.’ Stolas demanded. He glared at the bull as he walked away. Once Don was out of sight, Stolas pressed the letter to his chest and let out a prolonged sigh. He turned back to the butler who loyally remained in place throughout the interruption.

The throwing knife flashed in the air before pinning the last apple to the wall. The butler’s feet gave away and he fell to the ground in relief.

‘See my good man, it was skill after all,’ Stolas said smugly. ‘Go make yourself useful and clean this mess up. Oh, and bring me a bowl of worms to my chambers. I’m feeling peckish.’

Stolas skipped all the way to his room and plopped himself on to his bed. The golden seal broke with a snap and inside was a white letter. The owl demon read the letter while lying on his belly and his legs rocking back and forth in the air.

“Stolas,

I would have come on my own but my current ailments prevent me from doing so. There is no easy way for me to put this so I will state it simply: I need your help.

My current inquiry is unlike anything I have ever done before and it is pushing me to seek resources that simple demons do not possess. If you wish to lend your assistance, name your price and I promise to compensate you. I wish to meet as soon as possible. Grant me a meeting in two days’ time?

I would have called you but I was not sure if you would be around. Think about your answer and do call me when you reach a decision. 

Your friend,

Amelia.”

*

The bull’s face was one the bartender was familiar with. The mantis demon mixed drinks with ease as Don slipped him a note.

The mantis could hear Don clearly in spite of the loud blaring techno music that the nightclub played. ‘The job’s simple; watch Alastor. Two hundred gold.’ He tapped a finger on the note. ‘The office number is there.’

‘How long until the offer closes?’

‘Three days.’

The mantis nodded and pocketed the note. He served drinks and began making new ones, his technique practiced and fluid. Don left the crowded club and breathed Hell’s fresh air.

*

The rotary phone rang and a pale hand picked up the receiver. ‘Amelia speaking.’

‘I did what you asked me to.’

‘Good.’ Amelia’s smile carried through the speaker. ‘I will not be in office for the next few days but do be there for any calls. To anyone wanting my services, say that I am busy and not seeing anyone.’

‘Okay, boss.’

‘If that is all, good night.’

Amelia put the receiver down and rested her head back on the pillow. The phone rang again moments later. The person on the other end spoke before Amelia could. She listened carefully then nodded. ‘I will see you then.’

*

The private eye held the black briefcase in front of her and stood patiently. Neo; the mouse servant went to announce her presence to the prince. During this time, Amelia ensured that her lilac Victory suit was buttoned and the plumed hat orientated correctly. 

Neo stepped out stiffly from the library. His mouse face was pale and his eyes hollow. ‘Prince Stolas will see you now.’

Moving the briefcase to her side, Amelia thanked the servant and went into the library. Amelia’s olfactory senses were hit with a warm and earthy scent. It would not take an investigator to pin the unique scent on the ceiling-high bookshelves filled to the brim with books. Her eyes drew to the secluded seating area in the distance. The left side of his figure faced her. The owl paid attention to the book in his lap and did not lift his head at Amelia’s arrival in the library.

Amelia’s shoes clicked audibly on the hardwood floors as she went over to join the Prince.

Only when Amelia stood directly next to him did he speak. ‘Right on time.’ He gestured to the Bergère a few feet away beside him. Amelia hung her hat before sitting down.

‘I do wonder what has taken your attention so vehemently.’

Stolas smirked. He closed the book and placed it on the table that sat between them. Amelia read the cover with interest.

‘Research. Imagine that.’ Stolas chuckled.

Amelia raised a brow. ‘“The Power of Mortality” written by a Hellborn nonetheless.’ She turned to her right, noting the twinkle in the owl’s eyes. ‘What are you researching?’

‘Mortal demons, of course.’

‘Of course?’ Amelia parroted.

‘You see, Amelia, I know why you are here.’ He shifted in his seat. ‘Someone has hired you to look into Alastor. Is this true or not?’

The investigator sighed and turned away from him. Her fingers drummed on the arm rest. ‘Let me hear your price.’

Stolas gasped dramatically. ‘Amelia! Are we not friends? Do you not trust me with even a smidgen of information?’

Amelia did not speak for a moment. Her hard eyes fixed on a false point in front of her. Amelia’s pale hand now grasped the arm rest. ‘You have a habit of wanting to know things you aren’t entitled to.’

‘Aha! If that is the case, I want the cute pearls that circle your wrist.’

Her eyes flashed. ‘You have the coffers to buy Hell’s finest jewellery. Why want such a simple bracelet?’

‘The story behind it makes it priceless, yes?’

Amelia touched the pearls on her wrist. Almost as if assuring them her loyalty. ‘I… I can’t give them to you.’

‘Oh take the hint; I want their story. They never leave that wrist of yours.’

The private eye bit her lip. Once again, she was the meek girl in Louisiana who couldn’t look anyone in the eye. Stolas knew her well enough, far more than Don did. Similar to most people, Amelia wasn’t secretive but chose to keep certain things to herself. The eternal bracelet was a story she never shared; too intimate, too personal. On the other hand, it was easier to tell their story to a trusted companion than giving away bracelet entirely. Amelia had ends to meet after all.

‘It’s a deal.’

Stolas smiled. ‘Now, what is it that you need me for?’

She opened her briefcase and removed a file. ‘This is sensitive information. Keep it between us.’

Stolas took the file. After opening it, he chortled and his shoulders shook in glee. ‘I cannot believe you accepted the case!’ He leaned over to whisper; ‘Who is paying?’

‘Someone that cares too much,’ she muttered.

The Prince summoned his butler to bring refreshments. Amelia gave him a verbal overview of the case. Then, Stolas began to read through the whole report as Amelia sipped the fine whiskey. ‘Oh, now this is interesting.’

Amelia rose from her seat and stood behind Stolas. She leaned in to see what he meant. The information on the page went in detail about the obsidian marks outside Alastor’s window. ‘I know, they didn’t leave any cavities in the soil or anything. I thought my source was lying.’

He waved his hand dismissively. ‘Not that. The nobles always assumed that Alastor had an external source of power. It looks like we were right, he could have been using obsidian.’

‘Obsidian?’

‘It was either that or eating Angel hearts every day.’

‘Hold on, how does obsidian give power?’

The owl froze. ‘Sometimes I forget that you live in the shadows of lesser demons.’ His head turned 180 degrees to face her. ‘Obsidian can store and give off energy to its owner or recipient. How Alastor came across such a source that favours him, I can’t say.’

‘It would explain the reason why someone would enter his home. But the marks…?’

‘A sloppy thief. Must have dropped the obsidian and shattered it. When obsidian of such nature breaks, stray shards will melt but they won’t…’ he waved his hand suggestively.

Amelia started piecing information together. ‘Alastor is weak but still stronger than most demons. That would explain what the griffin said,’ she thought aloud.

‘Terrific job shooting him, by the way. I’m sure the parties involved would appreciate it, especially the losing side.’ Stolas humorously stressed the latter.

She ignored his remark. ‘Any ideas on who would go this far to bedevil Alastor?’

‘I will have to think on that. How does a compiled list sound?’

‘Essential,’ she teased. She sat down on the Bergère and took another sip of whiskey. ‘That is all I wanted to know from your end. It appears this may be our last meeting, Stolas.’

This appeared to ruffle his feathers, figuratively. ‘What are you on about?

‘I had Don bring me my lockpick set from the office this morning. I would like you to guess what I intend to do with it.’

‘How exhilarating! Why, I do think you’ll be back for our fortnightly tea meetings.’

Amelia smiled ruefully. The glass now empty and her tension eased. The two sat in a comfortable silence and the atmosphere was not different to their usual platonic dates.

‘Stolas?’

‘Hmm?’

Amelia’s eyes fell to the innocent bracelet on her wrist. She wondered if she could get away from telling him the tale but immediately shunned the idea. She sunk deeper into the chair; her eyes glazed. The light reflected off of each individual little pearl. Amelia could feel her heart seize. Payment is payment, after all.

‘I got it on my 21st birthday.’ She could feel his attention on her. The corner of her mouth twitched. ‘12th December 1932…’

*

Night came as the proud Apollo gave way to Nyx. The moon hung up by the sparkling skies, most diurnal creatures would take this as a sign to find a nest and sleep. And sleep they will, until the first of aurora’s lights beckoned the start of a new day. 

In this particular neighbourhood in Louisiana, the barks of aggressive dogs echoed through the night. Due to the late hour, most of the residents were not bothered by the noise. The dogs would stop barking after a while but not until they awoke the young woman in the simple two-storey home. She would not consider herself a light sleeper but if her puffy eyes were of any indication; sleep came difficult for her.

Amelia got out of bed and begrudgingly looked out the window. The neighbour’s bulldog was acting up again. She could not see any other person outside and pinned it on the bulldog’s crazed personality.

Returning to her warm bed, Amelia hugged the large teddy bear and tried to sleep. She closed her eyes and attempted to think of things she would have to do that day. It proved to be a mistake as her wandering mind betrayed her. Tears began to pour from her eyes. Amelia sniffed and drew the teddy bear closer. Like a loyal companion it soaked up the river of tears and drowned out her whimpers. Amelia’s body trembled in sync with her erratic breathing. It appeared that it would be another sleepless night for the young woman.

Minutes later she heard a soft knock on her door. Amelia gasped and quickly tried to compose herself. She wiped the teddy bear in an attempt to rid it of tears and wet mucus.

‘Yes?’ she croaked.

The door cracked open slightly and through the gap peeked in the head of her sister; Evelyn. She took after her mother in features; long and straight gingerbread hair; aquiline nose and a heart-shaped face. Amelia and Evelyn shared the same coffee-brown eyes and was the feature that indicated any blood-relation between the two.

‘Can I come in?’ Evelyn asked softly.

Amelia swallowed. She sat up in her bed and held the stuffed bear to close to her breast. Evelyn closed the door behind her and sat close to Amelia. Her features conveyed a sense of care and worry. ‘I heard you from the other room. What’s wrong?’

Amelia licked her lips while trying to formulate a coherent sentence. ‘Everything.’ She took a deep breath to steady herself. ‘w-with the money a-and now Johnny.’ In spite of the fresh tears Amelia managed to chuckle. ‘I’m the biggest fool the world has ever seen.’

Evelyn put her arms around her sister, the teddy bear now left on the side-lines. ‘You know that’s not true.’ She slowly rubbed the crying woman’s back. ‘You don’t see that ‘cause you’re hurt and that’s okay. It’ll get better.’

Amelia continued to let out silent tears and the occasional whimper. She revelled in her sister’s comforting presence and ever-lasting warmth. Amelia listened to her little sister’s heartbeat and the magical words her breaths formed.

‘Everything happens for a reason. Think of all the heroes in your books, they went through hard times too. It’s what makes them heroes, Mia.’ Evelyn paused when Amelia sniffed loudly. Tremors went through her body and Evelyn held her tighter in response.

When Amelia calmed, Evelyn continued. ‘It gets better. I don’t know how but it does.’ She squeezed her sister a little. ‘You will look at your hurt one day and know you became a better person ‘cause of it. You’ll be the hero of your own story. I know you will.’

Amelia let out a short and weak laugh. She pulled away to look at her beloved sister.

There were many kinds of sibling relationships and Amelia was proud to say she and her sister were thick as thieves. One could say it stemmed from the two girls moving away from home at such a young age when their mother married an American man. They only had each other in their new environment. Though, a counter-argument would be that they stayed together even after becoming settled and familiar with America. Whatever the case, Amelia loved her sister wholly and would not hesitate to hurt anyone that would dare raise a finger on her.

‘Ever the optimist,’ Amelia quipped even as her eyes burned.

‘One of us has to be.’ Evelyn brushed away the wet strands of hair from Amelia’s face. She looked at the analogue clock on Amelia’s nightstand. It read 2.37 a.m. ‘Would you look at that, it’s your birthday.’

Amelia looked at the analogue clock. ‘Goodness gracious, you should be sleeping.’ Her bones became heavy with guilt.

‘Nonsense. I’ll be right back.’ Before Amelia could protest, Evelyn rushed out of the room and returned just as quickly. In her hands was a small rectangular box. Evelyn plopped herself onto the bed and held out the box. ‘Happy birthday!’ she whispered excitedly.

Amelia felt her heart clench. ‘You shouldn’t have.’ Taking the gift, she lifted the lid to find a string of pearls awaiting her. Amelia’s eyes became as wide as plates.

‘Do you like them?’ Evelyn asked in a cocky tone, clearly knowing the answer.

‘It’s beautiful.’ Amelia removed the bracelet and clasped it around her wrist. ‘Oh, and it fits me just right,’ she gushed. Amelia threw her hands around her sister’s neck and thanked her.

‘Don’t mention it. I am so glad that it’s what you wanted.’

For the first time in weeks, Amelia smiled so brightly that the muscles in her cheeks ached. ‘I love you; you know that?’

Evelyn laughed and kissed the top of Amelia’s head. ‘Yes, I know.’ She slowly pushed Amelia away and put her hands on her shoulders. ‘Promise me that you will not let this silly world bring you down.’

‘Look at you playing the eldest,’ Amelia joked.

Evelyn pursed her lips. ‘Promise me.’

‘Alright, alright. I promise.’

The sisters returned to their respective rooms and slept soundly, including Amelia. That day, Amelia celebrated her birthday with her family. She did her best not to think of her ex-boyfriend or that her boss had not paid her salary for the past two months. The words of her sister would play in her mind each time her mind wandered to darker themes. There was no doubt that Evelyn was not only Amelia’s sister but a best friend.

A week later, Evelyn went missing.

A week after that, two policemen knocked on the door.

Amelia’s world shattered that day.

*

On the third glass of whiskey, the story was concluded by the misty-eyed demoness.

Stolas remained silent despite his snarky self. Eventually he stood up and pulled the glass out of Amelia’s limp hand.

‘You kept it with you all this time?’

‘Yes,’ Amelia breathed. ‘I never took it off unless necessary.’ Her laugh laced with melancholy. ‘It was on my wrist when the Abwehr captured me. I wonder sometimes, what did they do with my body?’

‘Of all the Sinners I’ve met, you’re the most interesting.’ Stolas put away the whiskey and summoned his servant. Neo came into the library and the Prince informed him to prepare a room. Once Neo left, Stolas turned back to his semi-intoxicated guest. ‘I believe it is time-’ The Prince noticed a single tear trail down her cheek.

‘Do enjoy my misery while it’s on display,’ Amelia spat.

The owl laughed and shook his head. ‘You have no clue, do you?’ Stolas pulled her up to stand.

‘What?’ She said with little grace.

Stolas put his arm around her waist with intention to provide stability. ‘Come, I will tell you on the way.’ As he led her out the library, he spoke in tones that only Amelia could hear. ‘You never lost your optimism and benevolence. I think it’s quite admirable.’

Amelia froze in place, stopping their walk altogether. That was the word she was looking for. ‘Don’t say that. You look stupid,’ she slurred.

‘Whichever way you look at it, you saved the deer’s life.’ Stolas coaxed her to continue walking. ‘We can talk about this at a later date,’ he said firmly.

The authority in his voice briefly silenced the irritated demoness. ‘Is this how it feels when I do it to you?’

‘You mean when you pick apart the very fabric of my existence? Yes.’

Amelia fell silent. The sound of blood rushing through her head almost proved too much. The promise of a warm bed in the Prince’s villa proved to be a perfect way for Amelia to forget the tiresome conversation she had. Stolas handed Amelia over to the care of his servants and bade her a good night. 

The skilled servants dressed her and tucked her into bed in record time. On the extravagant purple sheets, Amelia fell into a deep dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I do not have a beta reader so I apologise for any spelling or grammatical errors. I appreciate any constructive criticism and comments.


	5. Living Shadows.

The rumble of a car engine caught the attention of the spider monkey. Mary lifted her head and noticed the glossy black car roll to a slow stop by the sidewalk. Mary averted her eyes and tried to make herself as inconspicuous as possible.

From the corner of her eyes, she saw the window roll down and the driver’s head face her direction. ‘What are you doing down there?’

Mary noticed the clipped accent first. What she noticed second was the lack of malice in the feminine voice. Mary looked up at the driver who no doubt patiently waited for an answer. The driver looked human, save for the black-tipped nose and rounded fluffy ears on top of her head.

‘Not doing anything illegal.’

‘Ah yes, of course.’ The demoness chuckled. ‘How long have you been in Hell?’

‘What’s it to you, lady?’ Mary sneered.

The driver smiled. ‘The name is Amelia. Please answer the question.’

Regardless of her distrust, she counted in her mind to give an accurate response. ‘Like a week.’

Amelia nodded. ‘In that case, would you like a warm bed and food?’ Mary flinched and Amelia quickly added. ‘There is a project that wishes to give demons a chance at redemption. I have a theory and you are the perfect candidate to test it.’

‘Why the fuck should I trust you?’

‘I understand your wariness but I can promise you that you can turn back at any point. I will take you to the location and the owner will explain more. Does that not sound better than sleeping on this very sidewalk?’

Mary gnawed on her lip. Slowly, she stood up and wondered if she should run. ‘So, like I get fed and a place to sleep?’

‘Yes.’

‘I just gotta be a lab rat or somethin’?’

‘There will be no experimentation of that kind. The goal is to have you redeemed. I stress “you can leave at any time”.’

The demoness couldn’t help but agree. Amelia opened the door to the front passenger seat and let the young Sinner in. Amelia donned a crisp white shirt with black trousers; this contrasted the dirt speckled shirt and trousers of Mary. Even with the filth of Mary’s clothes, Amelia did not seem to mind. Once seated, the car pulled away from the curb and continued on to the road. During the beginning of the ride, Amelia explained what the Hazbin hotel was and its goal. She also explained her theory of young Sinners being the only ones with a chance of entering heaven.

‘So, you’re just driving around, looking for guys like me?’

‘No, I was on my way to meet with someone. Not to worry, this is a small side-track and nothing more.’

‘Like, you got a job or somethin’?’

‘That is the gist of it.’

Mary uncrossed her arms and rested against the expensive leather seat. ‘I can’t believe the princess of Hell cares about redemption.’

‘She is quite passionate about her citizens not dying.’

‘She payin’ you?’

Amelia glanced at the young demoness. ‘No.’

‘Then why’re you helpin’?’

‘Selfish reasons, I assure you.’

Mary laughed freely. ‘How did a gal like you end up in Hell anyway?’

‘Long-story short, the SS had me killed.’

‘That wasn’t what I- eh, nevermind.’ Mary absent-mindedly ran fingers through her pixie red hair. ‘Still, that’s cool. My dumb ass slipped on an ice cube.’

‘A quick death, at the very least,’ Amelia comforted.

‘Fuck that Hitler guy. He died in the war so it wasn’t for nothin’.’

Amelia chuckled and shook her head. ‘Not quite.’

‘Huh?’

‘Adolf Hitler, as you know him, died in the year 1987 of old age. Last I heard of him, he is in the far east of the pentagram. His days consist of spending time with Joseph Stalin, smoking marijuana and hosting yoga sessions.’

‘Oh wow,’ Mary muttered. ‘So, the government lied. Then what about bin Laden and Epstein?’

‘The previous few youngsters asked of the same men. I’ve checked and there are none in Hell with those names.’

‘Then they’re alive?’

‘Or in heaven,’ Amelia suggested.

Amelia stopped the car at the front of the hotel. The hotel’s doors were made of shiny black glass and had a frame and handle of bright gold. It was almost as if they promised a new life. Mary gaped at what was to be her new home. ‘Before I let you off, there is one other matter.’

Mary scowled. ‘Yeah?’

‘Tell Miss Charlotte that Clarice brought you. Avoid using my name within the hotel. I promise it is for the best. And also-’ Amelia turned to her. ‘-It is of absolute importance that you follow the program. Think of it as your national duty to succeed.’

The spider monkey rolled her eyes. ‘Gotcha. Can I go now?’

Amelia nodded and watched as she left the car and entered the hotel. Unbeknownst to the private eye, this would be the last time she would ever see the youngster. The simple task now completed; Amelia’s mind turned back to her main objective.

From the windows of an abandoned apartment unit opposite the hotel, a suspicious figure watched as the luxurious black car drove away.

*

‘So, you’re not gonna pay me now?’

Amelia heard Don puff air out of his nose. She held back a smile. ‘Father always said to never pay for unfinished work.’ She looked to the stallion demon that stared impatiently at her. ‘Don’t want to have you running off now, do we?’ Amelia turned her attention back to the briefcase opened before her.

‘Hey, you’re the one asking me to watch the Radio Demon while you do whatever it is you do. You ain’t telling me that either. Not many folks would wanna do this job anyway-’

‘Quit with the yapping, kid.’ Don said dispassionately. The bull in question leaned back against the graffitied red brick wall of the pub. The black stallion huffed angrily.

‘Catch.’ Amelia tossed a small bag to the stallion. The contents clinked as the horse caught them. A greedy smile draped over his face. ‘That contains thirty gold. You will get the rest when the job is done. Think of it as a trust payment.’

The stallion opened his mouth to speak but was silenced by the glint of the gun’s barrel. Amelia took apart her Webley and scrutinised every part of it. She broke his trance of fear by asking him to repeat the plan.

‘Yeah.’ He swallowed down the lump in his throat. ‘I’ll keep watch of the hotel and take note of who is going in and out. But mostly on Alastor. If I see him go out, I’ll let you know.’ He held up the two-way radio. ‘Whatever happens, we are to meet again at the back of Joe’s by 10 p.m.’ He gestured to the space around them.

Amelia made sure the chambers in the cylinder were filled. She nodded and snapped it back into place. ‘Then the plan is clear. There is no time to waste, let me know when you reach the vantage point.’

The young horse walked away with a simple goodbye. A sombre silence fell over the remaining pair. Amelia busied her hands by packing the black briefcase. ‘We have a reached a point of no return.’ Amelia declared while slamming the briefcase shut.

‘You really said it, boss.’

‘Ah, how I cherish your brief moments of sarcasm.’ She took the briefcase in her hand and walked over to Don. ‘The stallion knows his part. Do you?’

Don nodded. ‘If you don’t come back, I’m to come back here and pay the guy. Then I’ll burn the all the record files in the office.’

‘Remember that Stolas is willing to offer you a job, that is if I die today.’

‘Boss… I need to ask ya something.’

‘Go ahead.’

‘Why didn’t you ask me to watch the hotel?’

Amelia smiled sadly. ‘If anything happened to you due to my poor judgement, I would never forgive myself. I don’t want your family to lose you.’

‘So the young guy you hired, what if something happened to him?’

‘I wouldn’t care,’ she stated simply. ‘Once he confirms that he is at the hotel, I’ll head over to Alastor’s mansion and see what I can find.’

‘You know best. Just try to come back alive. I don’t know how I’ll explain you being dead to the other clients… and Stolas.’

Amelia laughed. ‘I’ll try and spare you such a cruel punishment.’

As if on cue, the two-way radio cracked and the familiar voice of the stallion was heard, stating that he had arrived at his destination.

Amelia looked at Don. ‘It appears that duty calls.’

‘I’ll be seeing ya, boss.’

Amelia smiled and took one last look at Don. Then, she went off into the dark night, leaving her old friend behind her. The private eye felt like she would never see him again.

*

Amelia paused to take in the sight of the magnificent doors of the mansion. Intricate carvings of flowers on coiled stems decorated the glossy wood. Her eyes dropped to the gold lock and she could feel her alter ego by her side; waiting. This would not be her first time picking a lock, and she planned that it would also not be her last.

Amelia stepped to the door and knelt down to the lock. As her pale hands picked up the lockpicks, her alter ego sank down to resemble a black puddle. Soon, it merged with Amelia to form a figure of darkness. Her both eyes now blue, Amelia could see the intricate workings within the lock. With its secrets revealed, Amelia was able to work quickly on the lock with her tools. A mansion that was meant to stay empty would soon receive a single guest.

The lock clicked and Amelia knew that the time came to enter a demon overlord’s private residence. She did not hesitate to press down on the handle and push the door open. Amelia was met with an expected darkness with the addition of living shadows. She knew they could see her as well but not in the way that other physical creatures would see her. This was all due to her alter ego’s assistance in hiding her true identity and presenting her as another living shadow.

The private eye stepped into the mansion and secured the door shut behind herself.

Those without the sight of a living shadow would have first noticed the ironically warm and welcoming furnishings of the living space. The warm shades would have been further pronounced if it weren’t so dark. Oddly enough, a few lit candles could be found on the grand coffee table further ahead of her. One thing that couldn’t be missed was the impressive the fireplace decorated entirely with fieldstone. The size of said fireplace was not the sole reason for its eye-catching properties. Dozens of head plaques adorned the height of the panel wall above the mantel shelf. Even if about a dozen metres away, it was clear that the trophies were claimed from a non-traditional category of game. One would be able to recognise at least three heads belonging to former overlords.

Amelia, on the other hand, occupied herself by taking in the sight of all the living shadows that stirred about. The shapeless figures were also intrigued by the new presence of what appeared to be another living shadow. Amelia could not appreciate the warm red and brown tones of the furniture, though she did note the gruesome and perverse trophies. The shadows whispered among themselves as she moved forward and further into the main living space. Her blue eyes darted around curiously and her vision went beyond the walls. No other creature of life was sensed.

‘I see you, spirits.’ The new voice of Amelia had no identity to it. It was neither male or female, high- or low-pitched. As a matter of fact, the words were hers but were spoken by the alter ego that hid her from the usually harsh security of the mansion.

The living shadows stirred about and their whispers dropped almost entirely.

‘I seek to learn what happened here over two weeks ago.’ The semi-physical body of Amelia and the alter ego floated to the window where it was said that the intruder broke. The same window where the melted obsidian flecks had been found close by. ‘Did you see them?’

The shadows stirred. It was not confusion but rather hesitation that delayed their response. ‘We are not to share tales of the house.’ Genderless was the voice of their main speaker. The blurring of countless shadows made it impossible to identify who spoke.

‘One of your virtues is to protect the masters of house.’ The window began to fog at Amelia’s proximity. ‘He is in immense danger and I wish to help him.’

‘If that were true, you would not have waited for him to leave.’ The monotone voice was somehow more eerie and hollow than that of her alter ego.

‘You know your master. He is too proud to ask for aid, even after his source of power was taken.’

Every shadow began speaking at once. The cacophony of hollow voices made her physical bones vibrate and her heart rate to quicken. Yet, she hid her physiological distress by remaining silent.

Suddenly, their voices dropped.

‘Newcomer,’ the voice spoke. Amelia could not tell if the speaker was the same as before or if another had taken its turn address her. ‘Do you seek the thief to claim this source for yourself?’

‘No, for the source only powers the one whom it was made for. I care only to help Alastor.’ Using his name was a calculated risk, she had hoped that outright saying his name will show some sincerity through the hollow voice of the alter ego.

A brief silence followed.

‘If this is true, then we will help you. However, we will require proof to such claims.’ The living shadows drifted closer and stirred around her, almost as if they were examining an expensive whore at a brothel. Though they did not have eyes, Amelia felt the tremendous weight of their scrutinising gazes. ‘Merge with us, let us see what words can’t give away.’

The spirits' loyalty to Alastor astounded the private eye. Other guardian spirits she encountered on previous investigations were not as such. Did they fear or admire him? Loyalty could be incited both ways.

‘If that is the only way, then I accept.’

Slowly, the whirlwind of shadows closed in on her and swallowed her whole. Amelia was conscious but her vision showed a world of pure darkness. She could almost feel the poking and prodding at her innermost sanctum of emotions. Her physical-self began to feel a sense of breathlessness at the onslaught. What kept Amelia on her feet was the ever-supportive alter ego. The whispers slowly formed decipherable words in her mind. Most were voicing their intrigue and surprise.

_“A demon and a spirit?”_

_“Domesticated, yes.”_

_“Is it possible?”_

_“It seems so. They speak the truth.”_

The words made little sense but she preferred interest to murderous-rage that the creatures were known for. Amelia felt as though hours had passed even if in truth it was only a few minutes.

_“Newcomer, we have seen your heart and see it speaks no lie. For that, we believe you.”_ The voice boomed in her head in that same monotonous way. _“Watch carefully, we will show you the events long past from our own essence. Are you ready?”_

_“Yes.”_ She breathed.

The scene before her eyes changed to that of the disreputable window. Amelia could see the familiar purple grass. She heard the sound of rushed footsteps approaching the window. Amelia held her breath, her mind pressuring her to remember every detail of what she is about to see. Within a second, the hulking figure threw himself through the window; shattering it completely. The vision showed a tall creature that somewhat resembled a man. His muscular body was on display save for his nether regions, which were covered with a beige loincloth. After it landed on the black wooden floorboards, Amelia was able to see his face. Her brow furrowed when she found that she couldn't recognise him. However, the single eye in place of his glabella indicated that he was a cyclops. Another creature from the Greek mythos, Amelia thought.

The said cyclops was immediately attacked by surrounding shadows but something peculiar happened; his skin reflected their attacks. Every hit or attempt to puncture his skin simply bounced off with a spark. He got to his feet and rushed down the curved staircase that led from the living room to the lower levels. He ran through the hallways and quickly pulled a wall lamp like a lever. An empty space in the wall gave way to a lonely dark room. In the middle of the said room was a pedestal that held an isolated dark mass. With the approach of the cyclops, it became evident that this mass was an idol in the shape of a bear sitting on its hind legs. Amelia could guess what it was made of.

The cyclops grabbed the idol and started running back to where he came. She could hear the distress of the spirits in the memory. The cyclops jumped to get over the window’s ledge but the action was hindered by the shadows latching on to his legs. His abdomen hit the ledge and the idol fell from his hands. Almost instantly, the sound of glass shattering could be heard.

The words of Herr Entress echoed in her mind. “Black glass.”

The cyclops dragged himself through the window after kicking himself free from the mighty grip of the living shadows. The view showed the cyclops running off with what looked like half of the idol. From the memory, the shadows were able to reach out and grab the closest half of the idol while the cyclops struggled to break free. The main reason they failed to retrieve the other half came from the fact that it landed a greater distance away from the first. The minor reason, the cyclops broke away sooner than anticipated.

Her vision cut to black.

_“Master is very disappointed with us.”_

_“We failed him.”_ An overlapping voice said.

_“He grows weaker…”_

_“The hearts are not enough.”_

_“Find it quick…”_

‘The hearts?’ Amelia interjected. ‘Is he eating angel hearts?’

The void of darkness disappeared and it took her a second to register that the shadows had released her. Her sight took in the familiar main space of Alastor’s mansion.

Their voices beckoned her to follow them. The spirits formed a dark misty trail that lead to a curved staircase, this time leading to the upper levels. She drifted along with them and came into a room that resembled a library. She found herself comparing it to the library of a Goetial Prince she knew. Amelia felt this library was smaller.

The shadows pulled on a book to reveal a hidden passage. The private eye could not help but draw parallels to the behind-the-bookshelf secret room in her own office. However, instead of case files and character logs, she was greeted with the sight of a freezer door. Amelia did not wait for the spirits; she pulled the heavy metal door open and felt the wave of cold air wash over her. It came as no surprise that the freezer was filled with angels skewered on meat hooks.

The private eye stepped in and saw that all of the angels have had their wings and heads sliced clean off. Some had been skinned and others were still intact; their feathers plucked bare and their skin grey. In addition to the missing wings, all had a clean cut along the length of their chests that extended to the abdomen. Amelia slipped her phantom hands into the gaping hole and found the cavity void of any organs. The private eye looked around and counted the number of angels.

‘How much time before he runs out?’ Amelia asked aloud.

‘Such things only he may know for sure… We believe Master has a few weeks at most.’

She swallowed. ‘He received a white envelope in which I believe the contents prompted him to come here. Have you seen it?’

‘We noted that he came enraged and sooner than expected. Though, we have not seen this letter you speak of.’

Amelia bit her lip upon noticing the butcher’s workstation. The silver table shone and appeared to be as clean as a whistle. She drew parallels to the Alistair she once knew, how he would gleefully clean a bloodied workstation after gutting and cutting up a deer. In the same memory, she could hear the tune he always hummed. A nameless song by Annette Hanshaw, nonetheless.

She had to force her mind away from the old memories lest Alastor himself catches her in a reverie.

The private eye closed the freezer door then later the bookshelf after it. Her mind racing with the new information she acquired. ‘Does he return home often?’

‘The master prefers to spend his days at the hotel.’ Amelia could have sworn that the spirit sounded a tinge sad.

Amelia asked the spirits a few more questions but soon came to the conclusion that they have already told her all they knew. She went down the stairs and took her briefcase by the main door.

‘I know there will come a time when he will learn that I was here. When it comes, tell him not to worry. He won’t be assured much because I came as a shadow myself; he will not see my identity. It is worth a try, I believe.’

The living shadows did not reply and, again, fell into whispers among themselves. Amelia concluded that this was a habit for them when they faced a peculiar set of words. Living shadows, or spirits as one may call them, were known to be social entities.

She opened the front door and breathed a sigh of relief at the lack of an ambush.

As much as she cared for her alter ego, it was refreshing to have the shadow peel away from her. Amelia could feel a great weight lift off her chest with the separation of the personal spirit. Soon, Amelia left the compound with quick steps. Once she walked a great distance away, she spoke into her two-way radio to inform the stallion that it was time for him to leave.

There was no reply.

*

Don walked down the dark alleyway with his hand in his pockets and eyes low. Under his arm was a large brown string and button envelope which he kept firmly against his side. He passed Joe’s pub and turned right to enter the compound behind it. There he found Amelia leaning back against the pub’s wall. Her expression neutral; rendering her even more so unreadable.

The bull approached her and wordlessly handed her the envelope. Without sparing a single glance at him, the private eye took the it and unwrapped the string. From this envelope she removed three pictures. She chuckled drily at the sight of the dead horse; beaten and bruised with a deep laceration across his throat. ‘He didn’t run.’ It sounded like the words were more for her than her companion.

Don kept his silence.

Amelia turned the pictures to Don to give him a better view of the gruesome scene. ‘When you found him, how recently do you think he died?’

‘His muscles were flaccid, skin warm, also his money and phone were still on him. I’m guessing that no other demons found him yet. I’d say about twenty minutes before you called him.’

Amelia nodded and looked back to the pictures. ‘Want to hear something funny?’

Don lightly scowled; a rare moment of him showing emotion. ‘What is it?’

‘Alastor didn’t do this.’

‘You think the guys trying to kill the big guy, killed our pal?’ After many years spent working with a well-respected private eye, it should come as no surprise that the bull had learned a few tricks along the way. Don easily met her deductions with ideas of his own.

‘Bruised, hooves yanked out and I can see a few teeth are missing; signs of torture. Then a simple cut across the neck to the bone. They killed him quick after getting the info they wanted. Alastor, on the other hand, has a habit of killing demons in a more theatrical manner.’

‘You think Stanley squeaked?’

Amelia chuckled again. ‘So, that was the stallion's name.’

‘Boss, I don’t think-’

‘I’ll have my laughs where and when I want.’ Amelia slid the pictures back into the folder. ‘Of course he did, he still had some teeth left in his mouth and his lower two hooves weren’t ripped out. The torture stops when you get the answer.’ She smiled broadly. ‘Do you know what that means?’

Don remained silent. One could say it was out of spite than habit.

‘You-’ She pointed at Don with the envelope. ‘-are going home. You’re going to kiss your kids, make love to your wife and then go to bed. I’m going solo from this point on. One too many deaths, I say.’

His eyes widened for a brief second. ‘What?’ he said gracelessly.

‘I will welcome you back once this case is solved. If you find it in yourself to forgive me.’

‘Ya don’t get it, boss, I wanna see this case through. We’ve been doing every case together. It ain’t fair.’

Amelia took in a deep breath. ‘You know, Don, what also wasn’t fair? Do you remember the story of Mary-Ann; my first assistant?’ Her fist crumpled the envelope. ‘I sent her to scope out a seedy joint. The last image I have of her is with her brains blown out on the bar, her skirt hiked over her hips.’

‘Boss-’

Another step forward. ‘Then there was McCormick, he had three pups back home and another one on the way. What do you think happened? You’re smart, you'll figure it out.’

‘I don’t like that look in your eye, boss.’

Now she stood toe to toe with him, she lifted her head defiantly and glared at him. Amelia did not let her short stature dampen her strength to challenge and intimidate. 'This-’ she waved the envelope. ‘-could have been you today. I could have lost you after decades of work. I’d have to tell your children that daddy had his throat slit. Would you have preferred that?’ Her voice did not rise and stayed at a reasonable level. However, it had become the embodiment of burning venom.

Throughout the entire exchange, Don had not moved a muscle. He looked down at the fuming private eye. Stoic as ever. ‘Ya think this case is worth it? Alastor is the same guy who killed your-’

‘Shut up.’ She seethed in bubbling fury, barely kept below the lid. Amelia turned around. Her teeth threatened to shatter under the immense pressure created by her jaw. She walked a few metres away from Don and took calming breaths. Amelia put a pale hand over her mouth, hiding her quivering lips.

A gentle breeze passed through the scene, occupying the silence for the briefest of moments. It was from this breeze that Amelia felt the cool wet trail down her cheek. ‘Please, let me do this,’ she said softly.

‘Lucifer’s daughter… You’re doing it for her.’ Don stated blankly. Amelia’s lack of a reply confirmed his suspicions. ‘Ya know where to find me.’ He turned and began walking away. ‘I’ll be seeing ya, boss.’ He said over his shoulder before finally leaving the premise.

Amelia stood alone for a while. It took a few minutes to let the reality of her situation sink in, to finally accept that what happened truly did happen. Once acceptance set in, Amelia started to breath regularly again. She looked up to the maroon sky and the ever-nosey moon above. Did it ever tire of watching hell? Or perhaps it always found a way to be entertained? The private eye could never find a fitting answer to that question.

Eventually, her feet began to move and Amelia made her way back home.

*

Amelia laid on her chaise lounge. Strangely enough, the radio wasn’t turned on as she laid there in a state of sombre tranquillity. The demoness would never admit it but she felt defeated and alone. All that remained was the absence of light that was sentenced to be by her side forever.

As she stared at the ceiling, that was when she heard it.

_Tap, Tap._

At first, she didn’t think that she heard the sound but then it came again. She rose up and fastened the tie of her long silk robe around her waist. Amelia wondered why the sound at her front door was so light. Could it be a child? Without regard to the suspicion, Amelia kept her trusted Webley behind her back as she looked through the peephole. Nothing.

She turned the handle slowly, and opened the door just a crack. A white shape flew in through this opening and Amelia spun around and slammed her back against the door. Her revolver was aimed at the white shape which floated peacefully in the air. Amelia lowered her weapon as the shape came closer and landed into her outstretched hand. Upon further inspection, she saw the object’s true nature.

A white envelope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I do not have a beta reader so I apologise for any spelling or grammatical errors. I appreciate any constructive criticism and comments.


	6. Room #50 (pt 1).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to say that I have split this chapter into two parts as I noticed that reading 6k words in one go can be quite tiresome. I have to change some things for the second half and will be uploading it tomorrow. I try not to end any chapters in cliff-hangers so do not worry about that when reading this one. With all that said, please enjoy the chapter!

When the car doors slammed shut, the white limousine lazily rolled away from the front of the hotel. Once it came onto the street, the engine rumbled louder as the weight on the gas pedal increased. The bright lights of the Hazbin Hotel faded with the climbing distance between the vehicle and the inviting neon sign.

In the back of this said limousine, one could find the daughter of Lucifer along with her girlfriend. Charlie tapped her fingers impatiently on the leather folder she kept flat on her lap. ‘What do you think he wants?’ She asked in annoyance.

Vaggie shrugged. ‘He’s your dad. The dude always has some reason.’

Charlie groaned and rested her head back against the seat. ‘The messenger said he wanted a “report” on the hotel.’ She pressed a hand to her forehead. ‘If I have to tell him that “we’re getting there”, one more time-’ Charlie stopped and looked at the comforting hand on her shoulder.

‘I’ll back you up, okay? You’re not going in alone against that asshole.’ Vaggie comforted.

Charlie fell again into an easy smile then firmly embraced her girlfriend. ‘This is why I love you.’

The moth demon chuckled and returned the embrace. ‘Hey, you know-’ she slowly pushed Charlie to rest her hands on her shoulders. ‘-you proved me wrong.’

Charlie scowled and looked quite nonplussed. ‘What do you mean?’

Vaggie rolled her eyes in a light-hearted manner. ‘I doubted the hotel since day 1. It took a while to get the ball rolling but I see the program working. Those young demons that you brought in; they’re not the same as they came in.’ She then lowered her eyes. ‘I am sorry for doubting you, Charles. You needed me to be there and I-’ Her monologue was cut short with a simple peck on the lips.

‘It’s okay,’ Charlie said. ‘I can’t hold grudges, y’know?’ She stroked Vaggie’s arm, her skin felt warm beneath her fingertips.

‘And that’s why I love you.’ Vaggie responded, a warm blush dusting her cheeks.

Charlie turned away and found her folder on the floor of the limousine. ‘Whoops,’ she said before reaching down to pick it up. She opened the folder to ensure the documents were in line and neat. ‘Oh, sweet Satan,’ she said under her breath.

Vaggie looked at her with concern. ‘What is it?’

‘I didn’t put in the right papers. We need to go back.’

Before Vaggie could speak, Charlie had already ordered the limo driver to turn back to the hotel.

Charlie slumped in her seat with a disappointed sigh.

Vaggie reached out to take the folder. ‘Let me see, I think what you have in there should be-’

The princess pulled away, as though a single touch from Vaggie’s hand would kill her instantly. ‘N-no, it’s okay. Just some bills and stuff.’ At the sight of Vaggie’s suspicious scowl, Charlie continued. ‘You can stay in the car; I know where I left ‘em. They’re in my office, so I’ll be in and out in no time.’

Vaggie retracted her hand. ‘I just don’t want us to be late.’

‘We won’t be!’ Charlie pressed. ‘Look,’ she pointed to the familiar scenery. ‘We are gonna be back in like 5 minutes. It’s just a small setback.’

‘Uhm, okay? I got ya the first time.’

The lingering suspicion in Vaggie’s tone made the bubbly blonde nervous. It did not help matters that Vaggie would at times glance at the folder. By the time they got back, Charlie was clutching the folder to her chest like it held all the answers to her problems.

‘I’ll be right back,’ Charlie said quickly before rushing out of the vehicle and into the hotel.

Husk’s eyebrows lifted by a fraction at the sight of her. ‘Back so soon?’

‘Hey! Just forgot something.’ She darted past the front desk and went into her office.

She breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of the report on her desk. Carefully she removed the files from their leather casing and replaced them with the proper documents that Lucifer requested. Charlie took extra few seconds to tuck away the “wrong” papers and ensure that no one would find them.

What could the papers contain that Charlie wouldn’t want Vaggie to see?

If one were to expose the truth, they would say these were the pages to the latest report on Alastor’s investigation. Charlie did not have the time to go over them and thus had not yet set them ablaze. Her beloved still did not know about the involvement of a private eye or the existence of an investigation.

Once her secret was secure, Charlie hurried to lock up her office and made way to the lobby. The princess came close to the exit when she heard it: a loud crash. It was followed by the sound of more furniture breaking. Her eyes widened as she looked up; the sound came from upstairs. She heard Husk curse as he, too, heard the noise.

Without missing a beat, Charlie dropped the file and began rushing upstairs. A million thoughts raced through her mind. Did the guests give in to their old ways? Were Angel Dust and Alastor fighting again; thinking that Charlie was gone? Maybe the two demons had provoked a guest?

Charlie ran as fast as she could and stopped at the floor she believed to have originated the loud noise. The sound of glass shattering confirmed her assumption.

‘It’s coming from Al’s room,’ Husk said from beside her.

A sinking feeling arose in her breast. Charlie dashed down the hallway and turned right to where Alastor’s suite was. Charlie came halfway there when Alastor’s door flew off its hinges and slammed the against opposite wall. Driving this force was the limp body of a demon, who then landed on the carpet with a heavy thud. Considering the force it must have taken to unhinge a door and send both demon and door to fly as a unit, Charlie was shocked at the demon moving. The injured demon rolled out of the way before Alastor’s incoming tentacle could grab them.

Charlie’s blood went cold when she saw who the demon was.

‘No dogs to help you now.’ Alastor’s distorted voice would have disturbed even the mightiest of Hell. He stepped out from his suite and looked down at the raven-haired creature before him. She got up on her trembling legs and wiped the blood off her brow.

‘Pity,’ Amelia said through her blood-stained teeth.

Alastor glanced at Charlie, who watched the scene donning a horrified expression on her face. At the sight of her, Alastor hesitated and took a half step back. However, the moment lasted briefly and the Radio Demon appeared to snap back into his usual self. ‘This will take but a moment, my dear.’

Diverting his attention back to Amelia, his black claws began to elongate. Their sharp edges glistened in the light.

It was at this moment that Charlie snapped out her shock. ‘Stop it! Stop this right now!’

Alas, neither listened to her.

Charlie started to sprint over to them. It was at this moment that many things happened at once.

Alastor lunged at his opponent.

Amelia drew her revolver.

Upon noticing the distinct glint of the weapon, Charlie yelled at such a high volume that her throat burned.

_“No!”_

*

_Two days earlier…_

The incessant sound of writing occupied the still air of the dead office. The desk of the private eye’s assistant sat void of company. Meanwhile, the office itself laid in darkness, save for the light that seeped from under the door of the private eye’s work room. Within this space, the investigator could be found writing notes with a great speed, almost as if she were short on time to do so.

Her desk was full of clutter and pictures strewn about.

Amelia did not expect the knock on her door. Her head remained on her work. ‘Come in.’

The door opened and came in the spider demon; Angel Dust. ‘Could ya explain why the heck it looks so dark out there?’ He pointed to the space behind him.

This time, she looked up at him and smiled. ‘Might I say, I am pleasantly surprised that you knocked?’ She motioned the seat opposite her. ‘Please sit.’ With that, she returned to the papers.

Amelia heard him groan and could imagine him rolling his eyes.

Angel plopped down on the chair and picked up a random picture off the desk. She didn’t have to look to know that it was an unpleasant photo.

‘Gee, wouldn’t wanna be this guy,’ he commented.

‘I doubt anyone would.’

‘Ah please, there is always some guy who wants to get fucked up like this.’

‘I’m sensing a story.’

‘Come on,’ he drawled. ‘Ya love my stories.’

The tension in Amelia’s shoulders dropped. A weak and tired laugh left her lips. ‘I can’t say I don’t.’ Amelia tore her gaze away from the report and met with the broad grin of Angel. Though, what Angel saw in her was not as cheery; his smile dropped.

‘Ya got into a fight or somethin’?’

She buried her face into her hands. ‘I haven’t slept in a while, that is all.’ Her tired eyes looked at him again. ‘I did call you here to tell you that the investigation has taken a drastic turn. I want to get as much of my findings to Charlotte as soon as possible. You were to play the middle man after all.’

Angel laughed. ’Ha! “drastic turn”? I thought that was when you shot a guy for Al.’

‘Believe you me, you aren’t the only one who caught on.’

Angel raised an eyebrow dramatically. ‘What the hell is that supposed to mean?’

‘It doesn’t matter. Look-’ Amelia raised a page to show the arachnid. ‘-I found out why Alastor is-’

‘No, you ain’t pulling that shit with me. I’m askin’ again, what happened?’

‘Anthony-’

Angel rose from his seat. ‘Listen, I ain’t your Anthony. Don’t blueball me.’

In spite of his anger, Amelia smiled up at him. ‘I find you absolutely endearing. I understand your inquisitive nature but the matter is affecting me more than the investigation. And…’ Amelia clasped her hands in front of herself.

‘And what?’

‘I don’t want her to know.’

Angel knew exactly whom Amelia was talking about. He sat back down. ‘Someone got ya by the nuts, huh?’

‘You could say that.’ Amelia signed off the report and began compiling the papers into a beige folder. ‘You’ll have to hand this to her. She must burn these when she is done reading them, you know how it is.’

Angel didn’t reply. He sat with one set of arms crossed under his pseudo-breasts and the other folded behind him as he laid back against the chair. Amelia knew he wouldn’t speak or move until his conditions were met. She exhaled in defeat and leaned back against her own chair; mimicking his posture.

‘You don’t benefit from knowing. Do you understand that?’

‘What if I pinky swear I won’t tell Charlie?’

‘Your finger is going to grow back either way if I chop it off.’

‘Don’t be such a tease. If ya ain’t gonna tell me, whats gonna happen if ya just die or somethin’? What am I gonna tell her then?’

Amelia held her chin in consideration. ‘Could you hold on to the information until something were to-’

‘Yeah, come on. Enough with the hold up.’

Amelia swallowed. She opened her drawer and began removing her writing utensils. ‘Do you remember what Charlotte said, about what made Alastor leave the hotel that day?’

‘ ‘course I do. Strawberry Pimp got a letta’.‘

Amelia removed the false bottom of the drawer and then removed a clear sealed plastic bag.

Angel’s eyes widened at the sight of the white envelope. ‘Ya gotta be shittin’ me.’ His eyes followed the movement of the envelope as Amelia carefully placed it on the table and unsealed the bag. ‘Y’think it’s the same-’

‘Yes.’ She handed Angel a pair of latex gloves. ‘I know you’d want to read it but I wouldn’t want any contamination. I have a plan.’

Angel eagerly slipped on the gloves and pulled out the envelope from the bag. ‘Yeah, and what’s that?’

‘I need to find Alastor’s letter.’

He didn’t reply as he had begun reading the letter once contained in the envelope.

To fully understand the context of their later conversation, the following is the substance of said letter:

“Amelia Langdon,

We are aware of your ongoing investigation on the demon overlord: Alastor. You are advised to cease this investigation immediately. My accomplices have neither forgotten nor forgiven your assistance in the execution of their dear friend. They have watched your whereabouts; including those of your close companions. No hesitance will present when the chance to end your life is given.

You have been warned.”

Angel pursed his lips. ‘They kill Don?’

‘No,’ Amelia said a little too quickly. She shook her head, suddenly aware of herself. ‘As I was saying before, I need to find Alastor’s letter. I have a specialist that can take a look at both pages and see if they were sent by the same person.’

‘Does it matta’? I thought you’d find be lookin’ for the guys who did this.’

‘I know they’re Graeco-roman demons.’ Amelia picked another file from the clutter and flipped it open. ‘Herr Entress was able to find the griffin’s DNA in an interesting database. I imagine you’re familiar with “The Colosseum”.’

Angel laughed as though Amelia said a good joke. ‘Ah yeah, the good ‘ol fight club. Worked there as a ring girl for a while. Like before Papa Val found me.’

‘They keep a DNA database for all their fighters. The griffin’s name was Calix. For generations his family fought in The Colosseum.’ In addition to this, Amelia explained her discoveries in Alastor’s mansion, the cyclops in the vision, the angel hearts and the stolen half of the idol. ‘Plus, the demons that killed Stanley-’ She gestured to the pictures of the dead horse. ‘-are familiar with the anatomy of a common demon. Such knowledge allows them to know the best methods of torture and execution.’

Angel crossed his long legs and adjusted himself in his seat. ‘I was there when Charles hired ya. I don’t think saving Alastor was on the to-do list.’

Amelia pinched the bridge of her nose and shut her eyes. The sight of the clutter made it hard to think. ‘I have fulfilled two out of three of her requests; his location during the absence and his source of power. The last is the sender and contents of the letter.’ She shook her head. ‘Even after that, you know I can’t leave him like this.’

‘Why the hell not?’

‘It could be that him and I are threatened by the same delinquents, or my admiration for the princess. You and I are different so you may not understand what I am about to say. She cares for the Radio Demon, and from my observations, he has become a queer step-in for her absent father. Even if we were to have no common enemy, I would help him, for Charlotte’s sake.’

When Angel maintained an uncharacteristic silence, the private eye took her time to declutter and organise her desk. She made sure to place the infamous envelope back into the drawer. By the end, all that remained was the file she prepared for Charlie. The sight of a decluttered desk is commonly a refreshing one for all those that work long hours on tedious projects. Amelia felt decades younger after clearing her workspace.

‘You plannin’ on getting into Al’s suite?’ Angel asked, breaking the silence.

Amelia’s smile did not reach her eyes. ‘Maybe. Why?’

‘I get it, aite? The broad has that effect on people. So, I know you wouldn’t want her to be at the hotel when you break in.' He leaned in and lowered his voice. 'Lucy wants to see her two days’ from now.’

The private eye rested her elbows on the desk. She leaned closer to the arachnid. ‘Alastor must never learn of who hired me, no matter what happens. If he hurts her-’

‘Nah, he won’t. In his condition, he wouldn’t wanna piss off good ‘ol Lucy.’

Amelia pushed the file towards him. ‘Tell her whatever she asks, except for the letter.’

Angel winked at her. ‘I’ll keep your naughty secrets.’ Angel rose from his seat and simultaneously adjusted his coat and took the file. ‘Don’t get caught, Mia.’ He called behind himself as he walked out of the office.

Amelia froze. Minutes had passed since the whooshing of the portal ceased, signifying that Angel officially left the building, and Amelia still sat at her desk. A sombre expression on her pale face. Who could blame her?

It was such a memorable nickname.

*

For the next two days, Amelia made sure to tie off loose ends and finish up any tasks she had left. It should come as no surprise that a distinguished private eye such as herself did have existing investigations before Charlie Magne came through her door. However, Amelia had not taken on any new cases since beginning the inquiry on Alastor.

In the days when waiting for new information or phone calls, Amelia would not remain idle. When Angel came to her office on that day, she had only one case left.

Amelia met with the client near a supermarket to hand them the final and conclusive report on their inquiry. After explaining her findings on the client’s business partner, Amelia revealed she was going to take a vacation and wouldn’t be around for quite a while. As a matter of fact, she had spread this story as a calculated means to throw off those that pursued her from the shadows. No one would question her; her dark under-eyes and sickly grey skin were things she could not hide with a calculated smile and laugh.

The day before Charlie’s meeting, Amelia set the answering machine in the office to play a pre-recorded message that would state that the private eye would be absent until further notice. Amelia had taken breaks from her work before and none would raise a brow at her sudden absence.

The private eye stopped at the door and took a quick look about the office, ensuring that all the lights were off and that not a single thing was out of place. Amelia hated to admit, the sight of the vacant and dark office made her long for the day things would be back to normal. She had not accepted the possibility life would never be the same again. Time and time again Amelia would remind herself that the investigation was just like any other. Such a mindset ignored the true nature of the tremendous inquiry.

She locked the door and glanced at the office number; 41. If one were to give Amelia enough whiskey, she would confess that the numbers related to her year of death, 1941. To quote Amelia, “I wanted to honour the year I got what I deserved.”

That night she lay in bed, unable to sleep or rest due to the loudness of her mind. She thought of Don, if he and his family were well. She also thought of Charlie. Amelia pondered on what Lucifer wanted from his daughter, as he had greatly distanced himself from her since the opening of the hotel. It goes without mention that her mother was nowhere to be seen. Whatever the meeting entailed; Amelia believed that the princess would be alright.

Though for her own future, Amelia was not as certain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, thank you for reading! I am currently writing the last few chapters and it's so strange to be seeing the end of this story so near. I hope that everyone reading will stick around until then :) University has started again and I have been finding little time to write so I apologise if I dont upload on time. But I can promise that I will definitely finish this story and will not abandon it. 
> 
> I would love to hear any opinions on the characters/direction/content of the story. It is always exciting to hear from readers and see what they think of the story :)


	7. Room #50 (pt 2).

The shadow watched as the unsuspecting white limousine drove further down the street. It stood there until it disappeared from view. Slowly, it slid from one shadow to the next until it reached the loading docks behind the hotel. It scrutinised its surroundings for evidence of any witnesses or eavesdroppers. Believing its environment was safe, the shadow peeled away from the walls and became a dark smoke in the light. This smoke drifted towards the green metal door labelled with capital red letters; “Staff Only”.

A physical being emerged from the smoke and approached the door with long and quick steps. She knelt down on one knee and began picking the lock. For locks like these, Amelia did not need the aid of her alter ego. The private eye unlocked the door and stepped inside the hotel.

The shadow concealed her once more and the two went in search of the room. Following the directory signs of the hotel, Amelia made her way up the stairs and came face to face with room #50.

Before the private eye could pick the lock, her alter ego engulfed her in mist and dragged her beneath the shadow of a console table. Amelia’s confusion cleared as soon as she saw the housemaid; Niffty, enter the hallway with a spring in her step. Niffty’s pink hair bounced about while she cleaned every wall lamp and doorknob.

Amelia held her breath when the housemaid started dusting the table whose shadow concealed her. She did not have to brace herself long for Niffty left just as she came. In record time, the little demon had already swept through the entire hallway and moved to the next. The hallway became all the lesser due to the excited and bubbly energy departing with her.

The private eye stayed in hiding should any new visitors decide upon the specific hallway.

A minute passed when Amelia left the safety of the shadow and looked through the lock. ‘See anything?’ she whispered. Her alter ego did not speak but Amelia could hear their negative confirmation. The private eye did not spare a single second, she immediately took out her tools and started picking her second lock of the day.

This lock in particular required more time than the one at the loading dock. One could say that locks of private residences were made to be more secure and thus more difficult to crack. Yet, the shaky hands of Amelia would state otherwise.

Finally, the lock surrendered. The simple door swung inwards to reveal a room bathed in the natural maroon light casted by hell’s black moon. Amelia carefully stepped inside and examined the alien space. The area in which she stood was the lounge area, where she noted the suspicious lack of a television on the dresser. The loungeroom sofas and armchairs both sported a shade of blue steel. The long curtains framing each window were a mute orange. In noticing that, Amelia believed Alastor did not have much say in decorating.

Amelia gingerly removed her wingtip shoes and left them by the dresser. She tip-toed through the living room and went into the master bedroom. Her eyes scanned the room and located the chest of drawers opposite the queen-sized bed. Knowing that time was of the essence, Amelia started searching through the drawers in search of the white envelope.

Once clearing though the piece of furniture, Amelia moved on to the dressing table. Again, no white envelope. The only interesting item she procured was a round picture locket. Out of curiosity, she opened it and was met with the familiar plump face of Mrs. Clarice. Alistair definitely inherited his chocolate hair from her. The private eye knew that the piece of jewellery must have been on his person when he died. The similarity to her own pearl bracelet did not go unnoticed. Amelia’s long-sleeved suit shirt concealed the goose-bumps on her arms.

Her search continued as she went through every drawer available in the room only to find nothing. Amelia did not give up and took on the task of digging through his closet. She probed into every pocket that existed within his plethora of suits. With every pocket that turned out empty, Amelia’s hope would dwindle. By the end, she had no envelope to show for her efforts.

She proceeded to lift the carpet and touch the wooden floorboards. No hidden compartments whatsoever. In spite of her desire to preserve the room, she lifted and checked beneath each corner of the mattress only to find the same as she did before. Whether it was desperation or critical thinking, who could say?

Amelia strode into the loungeroom to explore any compartments in the furniture there. The search edged her closer to the conclusion that the envelope had to be elsewhere. Though, the alternate possibility to its location would be a tough pill to swallow.

The alter ego detected the static first.

The door swung wide open, and within its frame stood the long thin silhouette of Alastor. His steps echoed through the still air of the room as he strolled in. The dim light brought out the eerie glow of his red eyes. Alastor stopped in the middle of the loungeroom. He tapped his microphone on the floorboards. The door slammed shut and the lock clicked in place. The demon overlord’s smile widened. His eyes glazed over every inch of the room, ensuring to be unforgivably thorough.

By the curtain, a particular anomaly caught his attention. Alastor hummed a soft tune and sauntered over. His long fingers pushed aside the curtain and found a blank wall. Appearing content with his findings, he let the curtain fall back into place.

Alastor abruptly stabbed the wall to his right using the bottom end of his microphone. The shadow escaped in the nick of time. The once smooth wall had become marred with a small hole that originated cracks of numerous lengths.

His ears perked up. At his own pace, Alastor turned around. The demon overlord’s brows raised and his eyes expressed a great blood lust.

In the armchair facing him, she sat with her legs crossed with her hands resting on her lap. The two regarded one another in silence. Both recalled their last conversation, from a time long past. Though unsaid, both knew they would meet again but never entirely sure when. Decades had passed since that fateful day, and finally they came face to face. It appeared that the neither knew what to say to break the silence that hung between them. Though, the surrealistic moment could not last forever.

‘Hello there.’

‘Amelia,’ he drawled. ‘Decided to visit?’ He tightened the grip on his microphone.

‘It may be hard to believe but I want to help you.’

He cocked his head to the side. ‘Is that so?’ Alastor leaned down to her level and came uncomfortably close to her face. Amelia didn’t retreat from his proximity.

The static pricked her skin but she made no sign of uneasiness. ‘I know you saw me.’

‘Ah, yes. The plaza. How could I forget?’ He straightened up. Alastor walked to window and looked outside. ‘Who’s hired-’

‘It doesn’t matter. I am aware that you’re becoming weaker and have resorted to eating the hearts of angels.’ She rose from her seat and came closer to the overlord. ‘I have a theory that those who took half of the idol also sent you the letter. I need you to give it to me.’

The room became deathly silent. Amelia realised the static disappeared. Disregarding her desire to flee, she maintained her ground and kept her eyes on Alastor’s back.

‘My dear, how rude of you to be pushing into a man’s private matters.’

‘I wouldn’t be a private investigator if I cared about that.’ She took a step forward. ‘Those who stole from you, they sent me a letter too.’

‘Ah, I see now.’ He looked over his shoulder, his toothy grin resembling the letter “v”. ‘That’s why you came.’

‘Please, you need to-’

From out of nowhere, a tentacle lifted Amelia by the leg and flung her into the other room. She slammed back-first into the wall and landed on her side. In the impact, the back of her head absorbed some of the force. Through her blurred vision, she could see the outline of his figure getting closer. Amelia cursed under her breath.

He laughed heartily. ‘That warrants a nickel in the swear jar!’

Alastor grabbed Amelia by the throat and lifted her until they saw eye-to eye, in a literal sense. The private eye kicked at him and clawed at his hand but to no avail. ‘Oh you must excuse me for being so-’ The grip on her throat increased. ‘-very-’ And increased. ‘-rude.’ His face mere inches from hers. ‘What happened to your eye?’

Amelia stabbed Alastor through the centre of his chest which resulted in him releasing her entirely. He staggered back in surprise. Amelia's concealed knife came in handy for the first time in a while. He simultaneously tipped over the grandfather clock as he tried to hold on to it for support. Without missing a beat, Amelia picked up the closest inanimate object to her and flung it at Alastor’s head. The vase smashed into a million pieces upon impact.

Amelia dashed away like a rabbit would from a predator, but stopped herself at the door. She told herself that running would only put them on opposite sides.

‘Get up,’ she demanded through heavy breaths. ‘I didn’t come to fight.’

Alastor wrenched the knife out of his chest. His laughs did not faze her in the slightest. ‘How amusing!’ His head cocked to the side at an unnatural angle. ‘You were always so entertaining, my dear.’

The revolver started to feel heavy in the concealed holster at her hip. ‘I’m your chance of getting out of this mess. Alistair, listen-’

The last thing she saw before being flung out of the door (not to mention taking it with her in the flight) was the unbridled rage in his eyes.

Amelia could barely breath as she met with the familiar sight of the hallway. Blood began pouring out of her nose and stained the carpet red. With what strength she had left, the private eye rolled to the side before the muscular tentacle could snatch her. It hit the door instead, sending splinters of wood flying about. Then, Alastor stepped out the room; his eyes resembling radio dials. ‘No dogs to help you now.’

Even if Amelia felt that her life was in danger, she wondered if there was a way to diffuse him.

In spite of every part of her body screaming in agony, Amelia rose up and forced herself to stand. ‘Pity.’

To her surprise, Alastor hesitated. ‘This will take but a moment, my dear.’

Amelia realised he addressed whoever it was behind her. Though, the private eye’s attention did not divert from his growing claws. Due to this, she could hear no pleas or cries.

Alastor began to move and Amelia knew what she had to do.

The revolver’s grip felt right in her hand. She slipped it out of her holster and aimed straight. However, Amelia’s plan combusted into flames when someone pulled her hand away and attempted to pry the gun out her hands. The private eye was baffled by the sight of Lucifer’s daughter by her side, trying to disarm her.

To Amelia’s misfortune, no one had tried to hold back Alastor.

The tentacle didn’t miss as it hit Amelia square in the jaw. Her teeth clicked together as she finally lost the strength to hold up her own weight. Even though she was still not quite safe, her mind questioned why Alastor didn’t skewer her with claws he brandished earlier.

Charlie’s screaming became more apparent than before. Could Alastor have stayed his hand because of the blonde?

Amelia watched as Alastor calmly brushed past the princess. The grip on Amelia’s arm burned as he raised her high in the air but she had lost the fight in her. She already had her chance.

‘Ah, the circle of life.’ She heard Alastor say.

With great effort, Amelia lifted her head. ‘What an idiot.’

Before the overlord could react, Charlie grabbed his arm. ‘Let her go!’

‘My dear, this intruder-’

‘Al, please! I am ordering you to let her go!’

Alastor did not budge.

A new voice entered the mix, one that Amelia did not recognise. ‘What the fuck is going on?’

‘Charlie, this woman was sent to kill me!’ Alastor stated theatrically.

‘No, she wasn’t!’ Charlie shouted at the top of her lungs.

‘How can you be so certain, my dear?’

A chill went down Amelia’s spine. ‘No,’ she breathed, hoping that Charlie would hear her warning.

‘I hired her,’ Charlie said with no hesitance. ‘I didn’t know what happened to you so, I-’

‘Hey! Who the hell is she supposed to be?’ A moth demon with long grey hair came into view.

‘Amelia Langdon, at your service.’ Equal parts of blood and sarcasm dripped from the private eye’s lips.

Alastor’s smile wavered. ‘Well, you should’ve just said so!’ Without warning, he released the grip on Amelia’s arm. She dropped into the waiting arms of a large black demon who reeked of alcohol. The private eye closed her eyes, the light had become overstimulating. Yet, she could still hear the world around her. A lot of shouting and arguing from what her mind deciphered. From the beating she endured, Amelia believed that at least some degree of brain damage has occurred.

Many sensations plagued her body in her state but the one that hurt the most was the shame.

Shame for getting caught, for being bested in a fight, for failing Charlie.

She also felt tired, extremely so. After everything that had happened, her body decided that right there and then would be the best time to completely shut down.

And it did just that.

*

He shushed the little demon before she could speak. ‘Now, now Niffty. Don’t raise up a fuss.’

She pouted and blocked his path once again. ‘But Charlie said-’

‘I know what she said, and soup is perfectly harmless.’ He side-stepped the little demon in one smooth motion and entered the small medical office. ‘Don’t worry, my dear. I’ll be quick.’

The door slammed shut in Niffty’s face. Her single eye blinked in surprise.

In the room’s lone bed, Amelia laid in a semi-conscious state. Her blood-soaked shirt had been replaced with a simple chemise. Splotches of blue and black bruises marred the pale skin of her arms, neck and face. Her breathing was steady and relaxed. Amelia appeared to be in a state of tranquillity as she laid in silence; her eyes closed.

Alastor placed the bowl of steaming hot soup on the bedside table. He turned to look at her bruised visage and smirked.

‘Come to finish the job?’ she muttered.

He snickered to himself. ‘Not at all, I’ve brought you something to get your energy up.’

‘She went to see Lucifer, didn't she?’ Amelia licked her dry lips. ‘That’s good. Yet, Charlotte has a lot of trust in you. Leaving you to watch over the hotel in her absence.’

Alastor hummed in agreement.

‘What do you want from me?’ She asked.

Amelia sensed the invasion of her personal space. ‘Oh, I wonder. Humour me, my dear. I must know why you agreed.’

‘To take on your case?’ The private eye let out a pained chuckle. ‘If I ever find out, you’ll be the first to know.’

Alastor gazed at her beneath half-lidded eyes. ‘It goes without saying, a more natural course of action would be to kill me. You are you and I am me. Have you forgotten?’ He teased.

Her delicate hand gently grasped his arm, taking advantage of his proximity. ‘I haven’t, and neither have you.’ Amelia’s eyes opened and braved to stare into the soul of death himself. ‘When I dropped the key in your jail cell, when I set those dogs off on you in the forest, when I begged for an answer as you died; I remember it all. Alistair, on that day, I made my peace with you.’ The hand on his arm trembled.

The overlord appeared to consider her for a moment. ‘How intriguing.’ He pulled away from her touch. ‘Now that I think about it, after today, I could say the same about you.’

A sense of relief washed over the private eye and her head dipped back into the pillow. Her eyes closed once more. ‘And all it took was beating me within the inch of my life. Bravo.’

‘My dear, I have to confess, I did not plan on killing you today. Ah- don’t interrupt me when I’m speaking- I wanted answers as to your intentions and motivations. When the princess revealed her involvement, it all became oh-so very clear.’

‘If you hurt her-’

‘Ha!’ He put a hand to his chest. ‘Entertaining as always.’ Alastor went in to pinch her cheek but pulled away. Because she rested her eyes, Amelia would never know that the overlord decided against touching her bruised skin. ‘Get some rest, darling. Tomorrow is a new day, full of new, exciting possibilities.’ Alastor spun on his heel then strutted out of the room with his nose high in the air, taking his pomp along with him.

Amelia scoffed. ‘I look forward to it.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I appreciate all comments and kudos.


	8. The Trail.

The crisp white shirt sharply contrasted the skin splotched with black and blue. Luckily for the demoness, the shirt was opaque and covered the bruises well. Amelia held her breath as she slipped one arm into the sleeve and immediately exhaled in relief. She repeated the stiff and awkward movements to settle into the other sleeve. As she buttoned the dress shirt, she reminded herself to thank Niffty for washing and ironing her clothes with such care.

After putting on her trousers and wingtip shoes, she silently stepped out of the small medical office.

To her surprise, no one was outside in the hallway.

Amelia gave little thought to it and began making her way to Charlie’s office. Though, it was not to see the princess but rather because her alter ego asked her to do so. In the office, Amelia lifted the carpet to reveal a hidden safe. After typing in the code (kindly provided by the alter ego), Amelia reclaimed her possessions. The familiar weight of the concealed holster and revolver made her feel whole again.

She left the office and went towards the lobby. Upon entering said lobby, Amelia noticed how strangely empty it was. She strode to the front entrance and tried pushing the glass door open and was met with resistance. Amelia cocked her head to side. ‘Can they really afford to be closed?’

The chuckle reminded her of warm thick honey. ‘You say that as though it was ever profitable to begin with.’

Amelia smiled. ‘Does Charlotte know I got a letter?’

‘It was Angel that squeaked, my dear.’

‘So, you know everything?’

‘Everything you cared to share.’

She looked over her shoulder then. He stood a few metres away with what looked like a sympathetic smile on his face. Many would consider his presence menacing, yet Amelia saw him as an odd comfort. They were two lone rats on the same sinking ship.

‘I can’t talk to her now,’ Amelia said. Her lingering hand on the golden bar tightened.

‘Ah, you’re leaving then?’

‘Unless you plan to stop me.’

Alastor laughed. ‘Why should I do something so detrimental?’ He walked over to the door and stuck a glittering gold key into the lock. ‘Not to mention, I am going with you.’

Amelia stood there; dumbstruck, unsure on what to say. She realised he did not yet turn the key. She could guess why. ‘I don’t think it’s wise that we walk the streets together.’

‘Rightly so! Though I don’t think your shadow will mind some company.’

‘I didn’t know you could do that.’

‘Is that a yes?’

Amelia ran the thought through her mind a number of times. She could see that he had a few good reasons to join her. If she were in his shoes, she too would want to find the ones who dared steal from her and even try to kill her. And given where Amelia plans to go to further her investigation, she might need someone like Alastor.

‘Should I leave a note?’

Alastor’s smile widened. ‘I’m sure they’ll figure it out.’ He unlocked the door and pulled it open. He bowed slightly and gestured to the outside. ‘After you.’

Amelia walked out and waited for the Radio Demon on the steps, all while ensuring that she wasn’t too far out in the open. Anyone could be watching. The sound of the door locking caught her attention. She saw a very pleased-looking Alastor walk down the steps while whistling a cheery tune.

‘You locked the door?’

‘Vaggie did ask me to keep the doors locked.’ Without another word, Alastor melted into a black puddle and merged with Amelia’s shadow. ‘Shall we?’ The joyous voice came from within her mind. Amelia sensed the discomfort of her alter ego; becoming roommates with an Overlord is hardly exciting.. To its misfortune, the private eye chose to ignore it.

‘I’ll have to ask you to behave yourself,’ she said to Alastor. Amelia did not speak the words but merely thought them. The sharp laugh indicated that he understood well.

‘Have I been anything but a gentleman, thus far?’

Amelia didn’t reply. She walked away into the dark shadows of the sidewalks then slipped further into destitute alleyways. Her path consisted of alleyways, forgotten walkways and demolished buildings, all of which would lead to her destination; Crocell avenue.

*

‘What did you do after my untimely death?’ Alastor asked.

Amelia didn’t answer immediately as she was preoccupied with checking the area around her. In relation to the other series of questions during the trip, this was the first that was directly related to her. ‘Does it matter?’

‘Simply curious how sweet little Amelia ended up in hell.’

The private eye chose not to reply. What Alastor didn’t know was that many before him got the same answer when prodding into Amelia’s past life.

At the door of the former physician, Amelia took a quick glance around before knocking twice. Herr Entress came to the door within a minute and let her in. The private eye said little to him and only showed her intent by making a beeline to his laboratory. Once inside the sterile space, Amelia produced two envelopes, both encased in separate clear plastic bags.

‘I need you to examine these.’ She gestured to the envelopes. ‘I believe they were sent by the same person. Maybe there is some trace that can indicate who or what-’

The weasel demon took them with gloved hands. ‘Let me take a look.’ He tilted his chin to a chair by the microscope. ‘Please zit, you look like you’ll collapse any zekund now.’

Amelia waved away his concerns and joined him at the metal examination table.

Friedrich examined both letters and envelopes with various methods; scrutinising every inch of paper with a magnifying glass, placing them over light source to search for a water mark, passing a UV lamp over check for any biological residues. He hummed in disappointment. ‘Should I dust for fingerprints?’

Amelia shook her head. ‘Don’t bother.’

‘I could try and remove the ink?’

‘It’s worth a try. Though, I doubt the ink will tell us much.’

‘For your sake, Mrs Langdon.’ Friedrich pulled away from the table. ‘I hope it does.’

‘I shouldn’t be mad, right? I did ask you to examine them.’ She said drily.

The weasel shrugged before heading over to the cabinet stacked with an assortment of chemicals. ‘Dies investigation has dragged you to share the same enemy as him.’

The venom in his voice elicited her lips to form a smirk. Amelia allowed herself to smile before Herr Entress turned around. She watched as he returned to the table with the amber-tinted bottles. He went off again to gather equipment. During this time of preparation, Amelia took the opportunity to read the letters before they were destroyed. She found it amusing given that Alastor’s letter was shorter than hers.

“Alastor,

By the time you receive this letter, someone will have been dispatched to infiltrate your residence. They are quite skilled and will succeed.

Do what you will with this information.”

Amelia projected to Alastor: ‘Did you know why they went there?’

‘I did.’ His curt reply spoke volumes.

‘How could they have known about it?’

‘Ha! Isn’t it obvious? Some shamus you are.’

‘I am no higher demon, Mr Durand.’

‘That’s because you never served Satan.’

Amelia felt the blood drain from her face. The ringing she had been hearing all day became louder. ‘You’re lying,’ she spat.

‘Now, now, why would I ever do that?’ The joy in his voice only raised her ire.

‘You killed for pleasure.’

‘And the idol just dropped from the sky into my lap? Oh, I do like that story.’

‘Herr Entress,’ Amelia said aloud, cutting the non-verbal conversation short. ‘How long will the analysis take?’

‘About a day. Depends how long it takes to purify the ink, and also, I’ll have to see if the two letters share the zame ink at all. Then-’

‘I know,’ Amelia said with a weak smile. She had been using her arm as a support to stand for longer than she could bear. ‘I think I’ll take that seat now.’ Amelia did not wait for any sort of reaction or reply from Friedrich and went away from the table.

Now seated, Amelia felt that she could trust herself not to fall down. The room still swayed in her eyes but she knew that she had to endure it. Time was of the essence, and Amelia was running out of it.

‘Whatever is the matter, my dear? Hit your head?’ The familiar voice teased her from the realm of nothing.

‘Know anything about live fighting events?’ Amelia directed the question to the weasel.

Friedrich’s furry features expressed a soft scowl as he worked. ‘Whatever my answer, is this about “The Colloseum”?’

It was Amelia’s turn to be confused. ‘How did you know?’

The solution he applied to the pages made the typed words melt into nothing more than a black smear. ‘Your bull came to zee me about vat he found there.’ He spared a quick glance from the delicate work. ‘You do not believe me?’

Amelia could feel herself sobering up. ‘When did he come?’

‘Yesterday. And before you ask, he came to compare something with der DNA sample.’

‘Something?’

‘He said it vas a skin sample. Please Mrs Langdon, you are distracting me. Give me a moment.’

Her heart rate started to rise. ‘Whose DNA was it?’

Friedrich sighed as he pipetted the two black solutions into their respective centrifuge tubes. ‘It vas a cyclops that once vorked there, according to the bull. He wanted to see if this cyclops had any relation to your griffin.’

'Calix.’

‘Das vas his name.’ His words conveyed derisiveness.

‘Don’t get smart with me, Entress,’ she snapped. ‘What were the results?’

‘First cousins.’ He continued to label the two tubes. After doing so, he placed them in the centrifuge and started the machine.

‘Damn it all.’ Amelia rose from her seat. The dizziness slowly began once more. ‘Did he say anything else? Where he was going or-?’

‘He iz a silent type.’ Then he smirked. ‘Never thought him renegade.’

Amelia sneered. She started walking towards him. ‘Listen here you Nazi bastard-’ Amelia ran face-first into Alastor’s chest.

‘Ho ho! Careful there, darling!’ He held her still by holding her arms. ‘You can’t skin a demon in your state.’ He turned his head to look at the weasel. ‘Good man! I assure you that answering Amelia’s question would be in your best interest.’

Friedrich’s mouth hung open.

‘Did you have to get involved? This is part of our usual banter,’ Amelia snapped.

‘Ah but you see, why be here when we could be finding that cyclops?’

‘It may not even be the same-’

Friedrich spoke. ‘Where in der Hell did you come from?’

‘Herr Entress,’ Amelia interjected. ‘Don must’ve said something before he left.’

As if on cue, Alastor stepped to Amelia’s side with a comically wide grin on his face.

The weasel swallowed. He licked his lips before speaking. ‘H-he only asked about Calix’s family name, if I could find others related to him. I told him that I can only find was ist given to me. He didn’t say where he vas going.’

‘Are you sure?’ Alastor purred.

‘Very.’ Friedrich kept his eyes on Amelia, not once looking at the Radio Demon.

‘I appreciate you telling me. Just-’ she leaned on the hand she placed on the table. ‘-let me know of the results when you’re done. If Don comes back here… tell him to “visit our friend”.’

Friedrich gave a curt nod. ‘I think it is best you leave now,’ he said. With his back glued to the running centrifuge behind him, his firm voice did little to intimidate the pair.

‘I agree.’ Amelia’s tired voice indicated that she was done with the conversation.

Alastor, on the other hand, either did not notice or did not care. ‘You agree? He barely told you anything.’

‘He told me enough.’ She pulled away from the table. ‘Hope there’s no hard feelings between us.’ She addressed the weasel, who responded with another nod, this one more assuring. Amelia walked out of the laboratory and could sense Alastor just a few steps behind her. Her legs felt to be made of pure lead. It became a conscious effort not to drag her feet across the wooden floorboards. Navigating through the indoor forest that Friedrich raised, further drove Amelia to rely on her muscle memory to find the exit.

*

After leaving Herr Entress’ residence, Amelia once again slipped into dark alleyways. She chose to stop when she gained as much distance as she could from the former physician’s home. The demoness settled herself onto an old crate located behind a brick building that used to be a bank. A weary sigh escaped her lips as the pressure on her legs eased. The Radio Demon took the opportunity to depart from her shadow and take on his physical form. He smoothed over his red pinstripe suit and flashed her an enthusiastic smile.

‘That went extraordinarily well, I say!’

She stared at him. ‘How?’

‘What do you mean “how”? This fellow of yours found the cyclops. Now we need to find him. It should be simple enough.’

Amelia pinched the bridge of her nose. ‘Don wasn’t supposed to be working at all. This is not good.’

Alastor cocked his head to the side. ‘Goodness, don’t tell me you can’t find him.’

‘Of course I can,’ she said roughly. ‘He could get himself killed. What a fool.’

‘That would be awful, yes? We will lose a lead on this case that is threatening both of us.’ He stressed the latter by putting a hand to his chest.

‘I don’t need you to understand so I won’t explain.’ A cackle of laughter in the distance interrupted her for a second. Once the merry-goers piped down, she continued. ‘You’ll have to return to the hotel; I’ll take it from here.’

‘Ha-ha! What a funny suggestion.’

‘I am being serious. Don is involved; I’ll have to be cautious.’

‘Lest you forget, my dear, I know as much about this Don as you do on rocket science.’ Then he raised a finger to shush her protest. ‘Even if you are to somehow evict me from this investigation, don’t think that that will stop me.’

‘This is completely uncalled for. I understand why you’d want to be involved-’

‘In that case, let us not waste any more time! Unless-’ he bent down to her eye-level. ‘-you need more time to compose yourself?’ He teased.

Her lip curled. ‘You’re underestimating me.’ Alastor moved back as she pushed herself off the crate. In spite of Amelia’s initial display of grandeur, she almost fell to the ground littered with moist garbage. One could pin her light-headedness on Amelia standing up a tad too quickly.

The one who added more weight to her shame was Alastor, who ever-so-graciously caught her when she collapsed.

Amelia saw him as a blurry visage, grinning down at her. ‘Maybe you should’ve stayed in bed, hmm?’

The private eye tore herself out of his arms and this time was able to maintain stable footing. ‘Stay in my shadow and do not exit until I say so. I don’t want a repeat of what happened with Herr Entress,’ she commanded. The blush in her cheeks indicated that blood had returned to her head.

Alastor hummed in agreement and, as before, melted into her shadow to share a space with her alter ego. ‘Where are we off to, captain?’ His cheery question echoed in her mind.

‘The place I would go to when looking into a name.’

*

In the extravagant garden of the villa, the air carried the tune of one playing the piano and whistling of birds. The lush purple grass was trimmed and the maroon shrubs were sculpted into lewd figures of demons. Within this garden, a private party was being held with some of the Hell’s nobility in attendance.

A small group ventured into the greenhouse where they chose to make merry. Other guests could be found at the grand gazebo standing in the middle of the garden, some even went back inside the villa to do as they pleased.

Our scene lies within the greenhouse. By the rows of coal black geraniums, the four demons stood about with wine glasses in hand. One of the male demons, a cheetah, said a joke which made the others laugh. Save for one, however. Stolas was terribly bored and inwardly cursed himself for hosting the party in the first place.

‘Whatever is the matter, Stolas?’ The nasally voice of the female demoness caught his attention.

 _Oh great._ He thought to himself. He smiled up at the giraffe. ‘Nothing at all.’ The plastic smile was now turned for the others to see. ‘So, these are the prized fauna that we have gathered throughout the years.’ He waved his wine glass to the other various flowers and plants. The guests hummed in agreement.

‘Exquisite,’ said one guest.

‘Marvellous, indeed,’ said another.

‘Stolas you must show us your vineyard!’ The cheetah demon suggested, which also earned a series of nods and hums.

Stolas could feel the smile burn his cheeks _._ ‘Ah yes, the very wine you drink comes from those grapes. I could ask my servants to show you around. I am afraid that my years do not allow to me expend myself too readily.’

The guests guffawed as though he told a good joke _. Satan, I beg of you, get me away from these sadists._

The answer to his prayer came in the form of Neo; his personal servant. ‘Your Highness,’ he said politely.

‘Yes?’ Stolas noticed his guests rolling their eyes at the mouse demon.

Neo swallowed. ‘Mrs Langdon is here to-’

‘Ladies and gents.’ He turned to the guests. ‘I must apologise but an urgent matter has come to my attention. Do enjoy yourselves in my absence.’

One of the guests, a lizard demon pipped up and asked when he will be returning. However, by the time he finished his sentence, Stolas was already back in the villa with Neo rushing after him.

Stolas went through the lounge doors and smiled upon recognising the raven-haired demoness. The smile soon dropped as her finer features began to set in his perceived view. Her right cheek sported a black bruise, her heterochromatic eyes rested atop hefty bags, and when she rose from the black Chesterfield sofa, her legs trembled.

He took both of her hands into his own and kissed them. ‘What happened to you?’ In the same breath he commanded Neo to fetch the household physician.

‘You don’t have to panic.’

‘Not to panic? Oh goodness, please sit down.’ He lightly pushed her back on to the sofa.

She sat but still held on to his hand. ‘Listen, I’m here because Don came to see you. I want to know why.’

Stolas scowled. ‘He came for the list you asked me to prepare.’

‘And?’

‘He took it. Did you not send him?’

The grip on his hand loosened. ‘No, I didn’t.’ Her voice low.

‘Don’t despair, I have a copy. And I must mention that he left a file here.’

Amelia’s eyes sparked with determination. ‘Where are they?’ She started to rise but Stolas pressed down on her shoulder.

‘After the doctor has a look at you, I’ll tell you then.’

‘I don’t have time-’

‘Don’t be so hasty. You were able to find Lucille even after she hid within the 8th and 9th circles, you’ll find Don.’ He nodded at the new arrivals; the physician and Neo. ‘Though, you can’t do it when you can barely stand.’ Stolas rubbed the back of her hand before releasing it. He then departed the loungeroom; leaving her in proper hands.

*

‘You collaborated with Stolas of all people?’

The thick brew prepared by Stolas’ physician had a lingering aftertaste. Amelia focused on ignoring the smell that emanated from her own stomach, lest she vomits and is made to drink the sludge once again.

The doctor was thorough with examining her body. Every unhealed ecchymoses and cut on her skin was covered with a poultice that dried into a thick mass after application.

‘Was I supposed to ask you?’ She said to the voice in her mind.

‘No, I suppose not. Ha! I didn’t know that the fellow was capable of much.’

‘It doesn’t matter. Don left something.’

‘A little too convenient, don’t you think?’

‘That tells me that Don knew I would come here. It appears that he wasn’t trying to leave me out of the loop.’

Alastor hummed in thought. ‘That doctor is quite adamant to not let you out here until he says so.’

‘I don’t like your tone, Mr Durand.’

‘What are you on about?’ he sputtered. ‘I want what is best for the both of us. Darling, you are… indisposed. And I-’

‘This won’t take much longer. So, stay put.’

‘How could you be so sure?’

‘Let’s just say that this isn’t the first time Stolas put me under his physician’s care.’

Alastor chuckled. ‘Strange for a noble to be so kind to a Sinner.’

‘I do hope you’re not insinuating anything.’

‘Never.’

Their conversation ended there when Amelia heard the door of the small medical office open. Judging by the footsteps, it was the doctor. He greeted Amelia in the same sterile manner as always and gingerly removed the poultices. The private eye was finally able to look at the doctor after he peeled the mass away from her eyes. The otter demon flashed a light in both her eyes and then repeated the action with a card between her eyes.

Once the doctor was determined that everything was in order, he notified Neo that Amelia was available. She dressed quickly and ignored the unsettling reminder that she was not completely alone. When he was still alive, Amelia would pin him as an epitome of a gentleman. And how much of that gentleman remained, she had yet to determine. 

Neo led her to Stolas’ study, where the Prince could be found going over a document at his desk. Neo left and closed the doors after him.

The study was modest in size when compared to the library. However, what was not modest was the grand oil on canvas portrait of the prince that hung on the wall behind the desk. It was as though Stolas wanted it to be the first thing people saw when entering the room.

For the first time since opening her eyes that day, Amelia was able to walk without questioning her faith in the next step. Stolas noticed this.

‘It is good to see you well again. Though, I can see he was not able to mend everything.’ He gestured to his cheek in reference to hers.

‘Forgive me for trying to move things along, I need to see those papers.’

Stolas smiled. ‘You know, Don told me you were in trouble.’ He slid a file towards the edge of the desk. Amelia opened the file and removed two slips of paper. Both pages had a total of four faces on them; two were familiar. One face was of the griffin, the other was of the cyclops. Stolas handed her another slip of paper which was of the name list. Amelia didn’t have to do any cross-referencing as the surnames of the demons were highlighted on said name list.

‘Drakos, Kefalas, Athanas. The latter was not on the list yet this siren you see did have it. The former two families did lose a member or two to Alastor.’

Amelia looked at Stolas. ‘When?’

He appeared to think. ‘Maybe sixty to seventy years ago.’

She pressed her lips together. ‘That can’t be the motive.’ She tapped the back of her index finger on the image of the siren. ‘There is a reason he included her.’

‘Could you be so certain in his deduction skills?’

Amelia stood in silence, staring at the images before her. She sighed. ‘Drakos and Kefalas, what’s their reputation?’

‘The blood for blood sort, you mean? I can’t really say as they fell from grace ages ago.’

She raised a brow. ‘How come?’

‘Some disagreement with Lucifer had their title of nobility stripped. Now, all they are known for is that fighting ring and a few brothels.’

‘And Athanas?’

‘Same thing really.’ He shrugged.

‘Have they tried to regain power?’

‘Ah, such headstrong demons always try. Lucifer is at the top of this little party we call hell for a reason.’

She nodded. ‘Did Don tell you if he was going anywhere?’

‘I didn’t bother asking. He gave me the file to further look into the surnames but that is all.’

Amelia’s eyes fell. ‘Funny how he trusted you enough to mention that I was “in trouble”.’

Stolas rested his feathery face into the palm of his propped hand. ‘What happened?’

‘I got a white letter; Don shouldn’t have known about it. I don’t know how he figured it out but I must’ve been sloppy.’

Stolas raised a brow. ‘Then what of your injuries?’

She shrugged. ‘Alastor.’

‘Goodness!’ he clasped his hands together. ‘How did you manage to escape?’

‘Truth be told, I didn’t. He is currently residing in my shadow. This entire time he has been quite talkative and is requesting to be let out.’

‘Amelia, now is not the time for such jests.’

The demoness smiled and tilted her head, her raven curls spilled over her shoulder. ‘Have I ever been the jesting kind?’

Before Stolas could reply, the glossy black phone on the desk began to ring. The owl demon scowled and apologised. He lifted up the receiver to his ear. ‘What is it?’ The reply earned an eye-roll. ‘It can’t be that important-’ he paused and listened. ‘Alright, give me a moment.’

The graveness of his voice concerned the private eye.

Stolas put the receiver to his chest. ‘Someone called in, the operator says they’re asking for you. By name, I should add.’

Amelia uncrossed her arms. ‘Did they say who it was?’

‘Some broad calling herself Alice.’

She quickly stepped to his side and took the receiver from him. ‘Amelia speaking.’

The operator stated that he was going to connect the caller and for Amelia to stay on the line. After a few moments of silence, a new voice rang from the speaker.

‘Hello?’ The demoness spoke clearly but her trembling voice indicated that she was in a panicked state.

‘Alice? Is that you?’ Amelia asked.

‘Oh! Amelia, thank goodness. D-don called the house a-and-and he told me to tell you t-to-to go home.’

The repetition of words told Amelia much more. ‘Alright. Alice, I want you to stay calm. Tell me, are you and the kids safe?’

‘Yes, we are,’ she breathed. ‘We aren’t a-at at home right now. Don hasn’t been home in two days and he’s telling us he loves us and this and that- oh goodness. I can’t-’

‘Alice.’ Amelia interrupted when the other demon’s voice began to rise. ‘Your children need you; do you understand?’

‘Yes.’

‘Now I need you to listen to me, do not trust anyone and stay in hiding. This will be over soon and I don’t want anything to happen to you and the children. If you need anything, anything at all, call the Hazbin hotel and ask for Charlotte.’ Amelia proceeded to state the number, which Alice jotted down. It may seem that Amelia knew the number by heart, in truth, a certain someone from the shadows whispered it into her mind.

‘Okay. Okay, I’ll do that. Please, Amelia, bring him back to me- us.’

‘I will do my best.’ Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the receiver. ‘I am going to hang up now, did he tell you anything else?’

Alice said no and wished Amelia the best of luck before hanging up. The dial tone rang in Amelia’s ear for a few long seconds before she finally put down the phone.

Stolas watched her with wide eyes. ‘That was Don’s wife?’

Amelia gave a curt nod, a blank expression over her face. Her eyes went to the door. ‘I have to go.’ She gathered the slips of paper and put them into the file. ‘I’ll be taking these.’

‘I figure he left them for you anyway.’

Amelia looked at Stolas. She meant to say something but decided against it. She tucked the file under her arm and said a simple goodbye to Stolas, who looked at her with knitted brows. Amelia didn’t wait to hear his reply and left the lanky owl demon behind in his study.

Don had left her a trail, and she had every intention to follow it until the end. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been gone for a little while and felt that I should remind everybody that this story is still kicking with a new chapter. Actually, I was supposed to have my Pharmacology test this week and then it was cancelled. A lot of exams are being shifted around and suddenly I have time again, even if its just for a little while XD. There is a chance that it will be another long period before I upload the next chapter, but I promise that this story does have an ending and it will be written and uploaded. It is just that my studies require 90% of my time. 
> 
> Anyway, I would like to thank you for reading this chapter. If you've got the time, I'd appreciate to hear your thoughts on the story.
> 
> P.S-I hope that you're healthy and doing well :))


	9. Heart of Stone.

The search around the cottage’s perimeter revealed no anomalies or clues that could have been left behind. Her pale hand lightly touched the door handle and trailed down to the lock. Both her eyes shone a bright blue in the darkness.

‘No one went in… through this door at least.’ She thought.

She held the revolver in her right hand and pushed the door open with her left. She stepped in and aimed the gun at every dark corner. Nothing. Both Alastor and her alter ego separated from her and went in their own respective directions of the ground floor. Amelia went upstairs to carry out her own investigation and concluded that nothing was out of place. In regards to the silence emanating from downstairs, Amelia knew that her home had been left untouched.

‘I doubt this Don of yours was serious.’

Amelia holstered the Webley when she was halfway down the steps. ‘I figured he wouldn’t be here himself.’

At the foot of the stairs, Alastor smiled with closed lips; concealing his extraordinarily sharp teeth. ‘Surely you don’t mean to leave me in suspense?’

When she joined him, it could be seen that Amelia was comically much shorter than Alastor. She craned her neck to look up at him. ‘He called his wife. I suspect he will call me as well.’ She went off into the direction of her small lounge room. ‘Come along.’

His red eyes followed her figure, mischievous intent within them. Once Amelia disappeared from view, he went after her. The first thing he saw in the room was the tombstone radio. His ears perked up.

Amelia sat down on the chaise lounge and looked up to the armchair opposite her. She expected Alastor to take his seat but soon found that she was sorely mistaken.

‘Oh dear! Never pinned you to be the gossip sort. Ha-ha!’ Alastor exclaimed. The last frequency Amelia tuned in was that of the scuttlebutt radio show hosted by Roxanne and Curie.

‘For the love of- sit down.’ In spite of Amelia wishing to sound angry, or at the very least stern, she couldn’t stop the emergence of a coy smile.

Alastor’s head snapped towards her. ‘Is that smile for me?’ His cheery voice held a drop of surprise.

‘You’re horrible.’ She covered her mouth and turned away.

He pressed a hand to his chest. ‘How you punish me!’

This time Amelia rolled her eyes and urged the demon to sit, adding a “please” at the end of her sentence. He kindly obliged.

Alastor eased himself into the plush velvet chair and crossed his legs. His eyes fell on the rotary phone on the desk by Amelia. ‘Now we play the wait game, hmm?’

‘You’re free to leave at any time.’ The chill returned to her voice.

‘Why, I would never! Especially now.’

‘Whatever are you on about?’

‘Aren’t we old pals? A little catching up wouldn’t hurt, hmm?’

Amelia’s eyes glanced to the phone. She then laid a heavy stare on him.

‘I can see those shamus gears turning,’ he teased.

‘A question for a question.’ She raised a finger before Alastor could speak. ‘No lies.’

‘What a change of pace! Here I thought you would never-’

‘How did you serve Satan?’

His toothy grin did not faze her in the slightest. ‘I killed those he wanted gone.’

Amelia scowled. ‘But Evelyn-’

He tutted at her. ‘It’s my turn. Darling, you have to play fair.’ He rested his face into the palm of his hand. ‘What was the verdict before they threw you in here?’

The purple velvet threatened to rip under grip. He worded his question too well. ‘Twenty-two counts of torture murder, thirty-three murders, and the unnecessary derivation of joy from the harming of people, including innocents. I am paraphrasing here, but I do remember kidnapping was on the list.’

He whistled as though she told him about a grand feat.

‘Those things I did are not something to be impressed by,’ she snapped.

‘Regret it, do you?’

Her eyes dropped to a blank space in the corner. ‘I still believe in God, and he did what was right.’ Her voice soft.

An eerie silence took its place in the absence of conversation. He sat uncharacteristically quiet and watched the demoness. Amelia eased up on the fabric of her seat and sat with slumped shoulders. She still couldn’t look at him. Minutes went by and no one yet dared to break the silence. She inwardly hoped that Don would save her. If only her enemies could see her now, they would laugh and say how her strength was all an act.

In truth, she was ashamed. Alastor happened to be the only person in Hell who knew her before her death, meaning he was the only one to see how far she’d fallen.

‘Damn you, Mr Durand,’ she muttered under her breath.

‘Ask me.’ The static in his voice was absent.

‘I don’t want to.’

‘You want to know why I killed Evelyn.’

‘Leave it be,’ her voice hard.

‘Satan wanted to see if I could something that went against every ounce of my being. A test, you see?’

She pressed her lips against the fingers of her closed fist. Amelia silently shook her head.

‘My darling Amelia, do you think you are the only one with regrets?’

She laughed drily. ‘You’re not the kind for such things.’ She looked at him and froze. Alastor never looked so solemn, and such a thing could be pinned on the dead close-lipped smile.

‘I did enjoy most of the killing. Their flesh went well with butter and rosemary. Really helped save a penny during the recession.’ The smile finally dropped. ‘Killing Evelyn, betraying you in the process, frankly, wasn’t something I enjoyed.’

Amelia exhaled the breath she had been holding. She buried her face in her hands and took a second to compose herself. ‘You have no clue-’ she rested her chin on her now interlinked fingers. ‘-how relieved I am to hear that,’ her voice trembled. She released a sad sigh. ‘It won’t fix the friendship we had but it helps knowing I wasn’t completely wrong about you.’

Alastor beamed. It wasn’t his typical artificial smile but a genuine one. ‘Well, dear, I wouldn’t mind having another crack at getting acquainted. Would you?’

Amelia blinked away the mist over her eyes and smiled weakly. ‘If both of us survive this ordeal, I don’t see why not.’

The mood in the loungeroom lifted and for the first time since their reunion in Hell, both were relaxed in each other’s company.

The Radio Demon briefly left the loungeroom to fetch whiskey, which Amelia initially declined but after some convincing limited herself to only two fingers of the amber liquid. She still had a job to do after all.

As the hour grew late, Amelia thought about the blonde princess whom she had become fond of. She asked her companion if Charlie told him what the meeting with Lucifer was about. To this, Alastor smiled with pride.

‘Heaven requested a meeting at the border. How exciting it is to see the old chap be oh-so very wrong!’

Her heart fluttered with joy. ‘I am so glad to hear that.’ She sighed. ‘I wish I had the opportunity to congratulate her. She truly is an admirable figure.’

‘Ah, she is, isn’t she?’ He laid back into the chair.

As their conversation went on, it soon became apparent that both had a great deal of respect and, in a way, love for the daughter of Lucifer.

Once tired of conversation, they fell into a comfortable silence. Amelia opted to go over the file containing both Stolas’ list and Don’s discoveries. She put herself in a scenario where Don wouldn’t call after all. She would have no choice but go to The Colosseum and see if her assistant had left anything behind. Amelia recalled how all three families that Don highlighted had been forsaken by the King. That was putting it lightly.

The crackling of the radio briefly stole her attention. Alastor was turning the dials until the displayed frequency satisfied him. The sound of soft swing filled the room. Alastor eased himself into the chair with a content smile. One look at Amelia prompted another brief exchange.

‘Whatever can be so amusing in those papers, hmm?’

Her eyes didn’t leave the paper. ‘I’ve no clue what you’re talking about.’

He left it at that and closed his eyes.

The smirk that remained on her lips did have a reason, in spite of Amelia’s act of aloofness. There was something about the radio playing “Night and Day” by Fred Astaire that gave her a sense of déjà vu. Alastor’s presence only amplified that feeling. She experienced a strange warmth in her chest which she couldn’t identify at first. Once she recognised what it was, the smirk fell and her cold expression returned.

Amelia did not lie to Alastor when she said that, in taking his life, she made her peace with him. Still, there was a sense of guilt and scepticism when she found herself entertained in his company. She drowned out her confusing and conflicting emotions by filling her mind with the contents of the file before her.

*

A loud noise jolted Amelia awake. The pinstripe suit jacket fell from her person as she rose up from the chaise lounge. Once the fog of sleep cleared from her mind, the nature of the noise became clear. The rotary phone was ringing. She quickly lunged and grabbed the receiver and put it to her ear.

‘Hello?’ Her voice rough.

The silence on the other end hung for a brief moment before a familiar sigh reached her ears. ‘Boss, it’s Don.’

‘Where are you?’

‘At a payphone. That’s not why I’m callin’ though. Did you look at the stuff I left with Stolas?’

‘Yes. What about it?’

‘About the families-’ Don paused. The shifting of the receiver crackled in the speaker on her end. ‘-it’s gonna sound crazy but they’re planning something against Lucifer.’

It was one thing for Amelia to have the theory in her mind but it was another thing to hear Don say it. The blood drained from her face. ‘I figured but that wouldn’t explain the idol stealing.’

‘They need the juice, they ain’t strong enough.’

‘Who are “they”?’ Silence came from the other end. ‘Don, let me help you. Get out of this while you still can.’

A “click” sound was made as a nickel dropped into the payphone. ‘Talking like that, really reminds me of your old pal; Wenceslao.’

‘I’m only looking out for you.’

‘Sorry, boss. You weren’t supposed to be on vacation.’ Amelia could only smile before he continued. ‘Ya know Casablanca? The guy who sent the letters will be there.’

She did not bother asking him how he knew that there was more than one. ‘He will be expecting me, I imagine?’ Amelia had almost forgotten Alastor, who had picked his suit jacket off the floor and stood opposite her. His ears perked up at the mention of an unfamiliar person.

‘Yeah.’

‘And where will you be?’

‘I wanna find where the other half is. Just in case.’

‘Don… You walked away from becoming a private eye so you could keep your family. Please think about what you’re doing.’

‘Already have. You gotta go soon, boss.’

‘Please, Don, be careful.’

The line cut at the last syllable. The dial tone rang in her ear as Amelia had not yet put down the phone. She slowly lowered the handset. When she looked at Alastor, he beamed with excitement.

‘You need to warn Charlotte, something terrible is coming to light.’

He raised a brow. ‘About what exactly?’

‘The three families, Lucifer wronged them and they’re planning some queer revenge. Don was vague and that revenge could entail anything.’

Alastor’s back straightened; he understood well. ‘What about you, darling? It would be fair to tell me where you’ll be running off to.’

She rose and smoothed her trousers. ‘I can’t.’

‘What!? That is ridiculous, such tomfoolery-’

‘They’re definitely looking for your half of the idol. You’re reckless enough to give it to them.’

He threw his head back and guffawed. ‘How can you be so sure?’

‘Because I know where it is.’ Her eyes went from his face to his chest. From her memory, this was where Calix had intention to dig further in after gaining the upper hand on Alastor. Calix’s words made little sense before she learned about the power source.

It also made sense knowing he wouldn’t kill Alastor if he didn’t know the location of the idol.

‘You’re not as strong as you used to be. Until we find the other half and restore the idol, you’ll have to choose your battles.’

His shoulders bounced in sync with his deep chuckle. Alastor clasped his hands behind his back. ‘Such fascinating logic! A pipsqueak with six bullets has a higher chance of survival than an overlord.’

She crossed her arms. ‘At the very least my death won’t give them what they want.’ Amelia looked back to the phone by the chaise lounge. ‘We’ve wasted enough time. Come, we will part ways near Lorgar’s temple.’

In a flash, Alastor became a formless black shape that readily pooled to the floorboards and became one with her shadow. Before leaving the loungeroom, Amelia’s eyes lingered on the tombstone radio. A dark question went through her mind and she immediately stamped out the possibility it suggested. She left her home without sparing another glance.

In legend, it was Lorgar who convinced Satan to speak with humans, which in turn would lead to their corruption. Some Sinners and Hell-borns believe in this and choose to worship the demon prince instead.

Amelia stopped in the alley that had the front of the temple opposite them. Wordlessly, Alastor appeared into the physical world with a characteristic grin on his face. He breathed in the sour air and exhaled in delight.

‘When you see Charlotte, tell her about the families and their connection to Lucifer.’ She tipped her chin to the file under his arm. ‘If I’m wiped from the picture, you’ll at least have a good starting point.’

‘Now that wouldn’t be a possibility if you’d tell me-’

‘I am not going to repeat myself,’ she said curtly. ‘This is how it’s going to be: you’ll warn Charlotte and stay with her. I trust you to take care of her and ensure she stays safe. As for me, I will be meeting with the sender and try to see if I can recover the lost half of the artefact. And for what I mentioned before, Stolas is willing to help if you ask nicely enough. I must also stress that the hiding spot of your half of the artefact stays between us.’

The flurry of instructions did not faze Alastor in the slightest as he listened with a content smile and closed eyes.

‘Is this clear?’

His eyes flashed open and he looked down at her. ‘Very.’ He bent down to look straight into her eyes. ‘Cheer up, darling. There are so many things to look forward to once this pest is destroyed.’

‘Like what?’

His half-smile held an amorous promise. ‘I can think of a few,’ he purred.

She felt the heat rise in her cheeks. Amelia took a step back and broke eye contact. ‘You go on ahead, I want to make sure you won’t trail me.’

‘How smart you are!’ Then Alastor cheerfully said his farewell and went off into the direction of the hotel. Amelia, on the other hand, remained in the alley for a few minutes and observed her surroundings. Once she felt that it was time, she started towards the direction of Casablanca. Amelia crossed the road and walked past the Temple of Lorgar. She could hear the muffled voice of the priest preaching about Chaos.

She no longer heard the preacher as she continued towards the gambling den.

*

The bright lights of the casino were still blinding even through the cigarette smoke. No clocks on the wall, no windows, and a load of noise, one would think a place of torture by that description.

Amelia heard the familiar sound of slot machines and noticed the occupied poker and roulette tables. Valentino had become the owner of many boastful busniness, this casino was no exeption.

Her shoes sunk into the carpeted floors as she took in the view of the floorplan, then she searched for the distinct dome security cameras installed. Another thing that failed to escape her notice was the “discreet” stares from a number of patrons. To those that have heard of her by word of mouth, her appearance was not good news.

A voluptuous lamp demon approached her with a tray of drinks. She offered her a drink in a sultry voice. Amelia politely declined. The private eye continued to another room where she noticed a stage. The band members drank whiskey and chuckled among themselves. She deduced that they were having a break.

Her intuition told her to wait. Amelia went to the bar and ordered a club soda. She sipped on the drink and waited.

Minutes later the band returned to the stage and started playing a fast-paced jazz tune. Amelia watched with interest. The private eye never liked gambling, so she didn’t quite comprehend how the people at the table games understood their dealer.

Amelia felt something hard press to her left flank. ‘Please tell me that’s gun.’

‘Get up, and don’t walk unless I tell ya.’ The demon’s voice displayed the consequences of habitual chain smoking.

She obeyed his command and glanced at him. The demon was stocky in build and his face was bald and wrinkled. He jabbed her with the gun under his over coat. ‘Turn around and go straight.’

Again, she played the marionette to the puppet master. The series of lefts and rights brought the two of them to a special extension of the casino; the gentleman’s club. He prodded her forward into the dark space drowned out by obnoxious pop music.

The demons and demonesses were dressed in thin strips of fabric that covered little. It was as though their stylists were dentists who only had dental floss on hand. They walked through a grand showroom where the performers stripped and danced on stage. Compared to the band in the casino, this stage performance had a much larger and enthusiastic crowd.

Amelia had little time to appreciate the show as she was prodded quickly into a room with a sign above it that said “Diamond Lounge”. The security guard nodded to her companion and didn’t stop them from entering. She passed a number of doors before she noticed two demons standing guard at the front of a specific door.

At the sight of her, one of the demons went into the private room. The demon with the gun at her back told her to stop once they arrived at the door. The remaining demon stayed silent but his sneer said enough.

From the room, a group of demonesses emerged and went into the direction of the exit. The first demon returned shortly after. ‘Check her for weapons.’

The gun was still at her back as the sneering demon patted her down. Her beloved Webley was once again removed from her.

After receiving the order to enter, she did. The room bathed in a dark blue light. It had a smaller stage with a single pole intended for dancing. Opposite this pole was a large and long black leather sofa.

On this sofa sat the television demon, Vox. He waved his goons away. The latter exchanged wary glances.

‘I’ll be sure to yell if I need anything,’ he drawled. They nodded and left at last.

The pixelated screen displayed a sly smirk. ‘Have you received my letter, Amelia?’

She crossed her arms and stood before him. ‘I have.’

He let out a polite chuckle. ‘And you ignored my warning?’

‘In your letters, you used dissociative language. It gave me the impression you didn’t care much about your “accomplices”. So do tell me, why am I here?’

‘If you thought I would be sympathetic to your cause, well, I am sorry to disappoint you. Those letters were a bit of a blunder on my end.’

‘How so?’

‘You’ll have to sit down for this one.’ He gestured to ottoman. Amelia eyed the piece of furniture with suspicion before sitting down. He continued. ‘You see, those Greek demons and I formed a collaboration to achieve a common goal. Though, I never thought they would resort to such unorthodox methods.’

She raised a brow. ‘This land is full of sin, but you drew the line at stealing from your enemy?’

‘Ah, so you knew about my little rivalry with Alastor? No matter. They went against the core morals and goals of our little union and it didn’t appease me.’

‘You warned him?’ Amelia pretended to not have seen the letter. She could not allow the events of the past few days to come to light.

He nodded. ‘Imagine my surprise when a detective gets involved. They were able to figure it out by taking the griffin’s body and looking at the bullets. Only one demoness in the area was known to smelt angel blades to make bullets for her gun. Quite creative, I admit. Too costly for my tastes.’

‘You didn’t warn me of my expenditures in that letter.’

He waved his hand at her. There was something about his grey ironed suit adorned with a massive red bow tie that told her he never took fashion advice. The miniature hat on top of his tv screen for a head provided further proof to her claim. ‘After having to step in to save Alastor, you of all people should know that he is done for. I felt a little bad because you got dragged into this so it was a courtesy to warn you as well.’

‘I recall it being more of a threat on the behalf of your colleagues.’

‘Very true. And that is why we are here today. You must be worried sick for your pet bull, hmm?’

She almost jumped out of her seat then but reminded herself to remain calm. ‘You must be talking about Don.’

His smile sported shark-like teeth. Compared to the smile of the Radio Demon, this one was far less intimidating and had no effect on Amelia.

‘Are you not _dying_ to know where he is?’

‘I am not playing your games, Vox. What do you want?’

‘What I want, has been fulfilled either way. It comes down to what you will tell me.’ He crossed his legs. ‘Where is Alastor keeping his half of the artefact?’

‘Why would I know that?’

He rolled his disproportionate eyes. ‘Your sweet bull told us that you had a “working theory”. If only you were kind enough to tell him, we wouldn’t be in this situation.’

‘Don would never tell you anything. That demon is immune to torture.’

‘Exactly, that is why he kindly answered all our questions.’ He leaned forward and pressed a button under the low table. ‘Even told us a little bit about you and your love for a stiff drink.’

The moment she heard the door open, she jumped to her feet. Amelia grabbed the bottle of beer and smashed the bottom off the edge of the table. This produced a weapon with an elongated and wide shard of glass bound to the bottle neck. She didn’t have the size advantage to use Vox as a hostage, so she had to rely on other talents.

The familiar three demons walked in, along with a new addition. Her grip on the neck of the bottle tightened. ‘This isn’t my first bar brawl; in case you’ve neglected to tell them.’

‘Don’t make this harder than it needs to be,’ Don said.

She pressed her lips together, the corners of her mouth hanging low. ‘You know I can’t do that.’ She shook her head. ‘I understand, you want to protect your family.’ Amelia took in a deep breath. Her eyes darted from the demon to demon, taking note of their batons and demented expressions. ‘What are you waiting for? I’m outnumbered.’

The four of them slowly approached her, their eyes on her impromptu weapon. Amelia knew she would not be able to win in a 4-on-1 fight, but she would never roll-over and give up. No matter the circumstances.

The wrinkly demon abruptly lunged at her with his baton, Amelia barely moved away in time before jamming the glass into his carotid artery. The other three demons saw this as an opportunity to grab her. Amelia used all her strength to push the demon in their direction before taking off towards the open door.

The other demons quickly got their bleeding comrade off of them before running after her.

Amelia panted and felt the air in her throat and lungs burn as she ran. She pushed through crowds of demons and demonesses in the club as she searched for a way to lose her pursuers. The adrenaline that rushed through her burning blood made her heart beat wildly against her sternum. If only she had her Webley, the mess would have been sorted seconds ago.

After exiting the club, Amelia rushed towards the doors that had “staff only” on them. She rammed through the doors with her shoulder and immediately recognised the place to be a kitchen. As soon as she started running, she heard the sound of the doors slamming open. She pushed past a few chefs and servers that were unlucky enough to be in her path. One waitress yelped in pain for she was pushed against the corner of a metal table.

When Amelia passed a stove filled with boiling soup, she did the only logical thing she could think of. She sacrificed a few seconds to stop and tip the pot over before running off to another set of doors.

The first demon of the three was too focused on Amelia that he was confused as to why he fell over backwards. His fall hindered the sprint of his comrades. Unlike the wrinkled demon, they grabbed his arms and helped him up. By this point, a thud and high-pitched scream were heard behind the doors Amelia just went through.

They rushed past the doors and saw a small maid clutching her belly. Her cart lay turned over on the floor as she stared down the hallway that led to the gardens behind the casino. The demons asked no question as they ran past her and further down the hall.

Once the demons were gone, the maid finally got up on shaky legs and pulled her cart up. She slowly picked up the blankets that spilled over. The kitchen staff asked her about what happened but she only cussed angrily in response as she pushed her cart over to the laundry room. Her other hand was still on her abdomen. After leaving her cart, she went outside through the staff door and put a cigarette to her lips.

She patted her uniform for a lighter and found none. She groaned and slipped the cigarette back into the box. The thick hot fumes coming from the kitchen vents proved too much for the maid. She strolled further to the edge of the complex and took a deep breath of fresh air. Before she could turn the corner, a hulking figure appeared before her.

Her small pig face trailed up to the face of the shirtless demon. The defined muscles in his torso and arms boasted of tremendous strength. He had only one eye in the middle of his face and his cracked lips bulged from large misshapen teeth. 

The maid swallowed and stepped back; she made a move to pass him but he grabbed her by the throat. She choked and weakly clawed at his thick arm. ‘Let me go!’ she squealed with what breath she had.

With a tight grip on her neck, he lifted her and slammed her against the wall. Like a glitch, her disguise flashed before disappearing entirely. ‘Do you think spirit tricks fool me?’ His breath wafted over Amelia’s face. Amelia tried to speak but only let out strangled gurgles. He eased his grip. ‘What?’

‘Brontes Kefalas, I presume?’ she choked.

His grin revealed horrendous orange teeth. ‘How I’d love to get you back for Calix.’ He stressed his point by increasing the pressure in his grip. Then he reduced it slightly. He cackled. ‘Don’t get too excited, bitch. That part comes after.’

What “after” meant would forever be lost to history. Amelia had every intention of asking him but the cyclops was too hasty with squeezing her throat to the point that inadequate blood reached her brain. There were faster methods of incapacitating her but Brontes clearly wanted her to suffer. Specks of black flickered in her vision and Amelia thought her face was going to pop.

Eventually, Amelia’s clawing and kicking stopped and her limbs fell limp. The sweet relief of darkness finally came.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to thank everyone for their patience and for sticking around for this story with its wacky upload schedule. My mid-terms are finally done and I had time to write. Please let me know what you think of the story and its progress. I'm a bit unsure on how to tie things off at the end and I think getting some feedback would help. 
> 
> Whatever the case, thank you for reading this chapter and I hope all is well! :)


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